


you steal the air out of my lungs

by LittleQueenTrashMouth



Series: "steal the air" AU [1]
Category: Avatar: The Last Airbender
Genre: Canon Universe, F/M, Multi, Past Aang/Katara (Avatar), Past Mai/Zuko (Avatar), Post-Canon, Slow Burn
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-06
Updated: 2020-10-25
Packaged: 2021-03-05 06:27:44
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 10
Words: 68,941
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25109989
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LittleQueenTrashMouth/pseuds/LittleQueenTrashMouth
Summary: Ten years after the end of the war, Aang and Mai meet up at their exes' wedding. They're both totally fine with it.
Relationships: Aang/Mai (Avatar), Katara/Zuko (Avatar)
Series: "steal the air" AU [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2098830
Comments: 161
Kudos: 278





	1. will we fight, stay up late?

**Author's Note:**

> This entire idea/plot for this first chapter is from irresistible_revolution ([Tumblr](https://www.irresistible-revolution.com/)|[AO3](https://archiveofourown.org/users/irresistible_revolution/pseuds/irresistible_revolution)). Please go check out her stuff for the best Avatar takes!
> 
> I have not read the comics or seen LOK and I probably never will. Also, I have "early 2000's RP proboards" disease and can only make fic/chapter titles out of song lyrics. All the ones here are from "Don't Take the Money" by Bleachers.

Aang morosely swirled his drink around in his glass, his gaze slowly panning across the room from his position leaning against the corner of the bar. Normally, he’s the life of the party, the first one there and the last one to leave, single-handedly keeping everyone’s energy up. 

Normally, he’s not at the wedding of his ex-girlfriend and one of his best friends.

He’d been able to paste a smile on his face whenever Katara or Zuko looked directly at him, but it turned back into a sulk the second their attention drifted elsewhere. It’s not that he’s still in love with Katara, he mused as he drained his glass and waved the bartender over for refill. They had broken up six years ago, plenty of time to reflect and move on. It had ended amicably, and Aang didn’t begrudge either her or Zuko when they had begun dating a year and a half later. A large part of that was that, as the Avatar, it was his responsibility to maintain peace and order throughout the world, which he couldn’t do if he was busy being jealous and petty. It was his job to be the bigger man. Another part of it was that he just wanted Katara to be happy, no matter who she was with.

Still, it was one thing to graciously accept the situation, and quite another to have to celebrate their union in front of everyone they had ever met.

For most of the reception, Aang had been dodging other guests who seemed intent on sighing and looking at him with sad-eyes, as those he were an abandoned pygmy puma kitten. Every time he got away from them, he was confronted with Katara and Zuko trying way too hard to include him and aggressively making sure that he was having a good time. If the happy couple was busy, they would send in either Sokka or Toph to check up on him. Aang was not quick to anger, but if he had to tell someone, “Yes, I’m really fine,” one more time, he was going to pull a Kyoshi and make a new island state, populated solely by him and the bartender.

After Toph’s last terrible attempt at cheering him up (“Good god, I’ve been to funerals with people having more fun than you”), everybody had gotten the hint and largely left him alone. Aang could now get pleasantly drunk, focus on keeping his wet blanket-ness contained to his corner and building a pyramid out of his finished glasses of sake.

“Are you hoping to drink enough that you can no longer see the décor?” A deadpan voice spoke from somewhere around his left elbow. “Because you might actually die of alcohol poisoning before that happens.”

“Hi, Mai,” Aang greeted the lithe girl that had managed to sneak in next to him at the bar. The bartender silently brought her a glass of amber liquid before she could speak, and she took it without looking at him. Aang let his eyes rove around the ballroom, taking in the rather overwhelming decorations. “Yeah, the purple is an…interesting choice.”

“Some bullshit about mixing the red and blue of the two cultures,” Mai replied, sipping at her drink and pushing the purple napkin that came with it onto the floor. It slowly drifted down, mixing with the purple confetti and decorative purple mats that have been spread around underfoot. The entire room, from the floor to the ceiling and everything in between, was purple. Although Katara and Zuko each wore blue and red respectively, their robes were embroidered with purple accents. They had also requested that guests wear purple trinkets of their own. Aang had managed to find a purple gem, which he wore in his pierced ear. The color clashed horribly with his traditional orange and yellow Air Nomad robes, but he had worn it without complaint when they had asked. Mai, on the other hand, had clearly completely ignored them; she was wearing a burgundy and black dress that flattered her porcelain skin and amber eyes.

“Do you think they even considered just not inviting us?” Mai asked abruptly, and Aang was suddenly reminded that she was also at her ex’s wedding. Aang didn’t know that much about Zuko and Mai’s relationship; from what he understood, they had been off and on until about five years ago. The timeline between the previous relationships breaking up and the new one starting was always pretty murky, and Aang didn’t care to investigate further. If Katara left him to be with Zuko, or if Zuko had done the same to Mai to be with Katara, he didn’t really need to know. 

“I don’t think that thought ever crossed their minds,” Aang answered honestly. Katara and Zuko were incredibly dedicated to making sure that Aang never felt like they didn’t want him in their lives anymore. He did appreciate that they were making the effort to include him and be friends with him, though if it often came across heavy-handed and awkward. They had actually tried to get him involved in the wedding itself, even asking if he could officiate. Fortunately for him, he had been right in the middle of some delicate negotiations between the Northern Water Tribe and a nearby Earth Kingdom island, and wouldn’t be able to fly out until the day of the wedding, so he was able to dodge any real responsibilities.

“I almost wish they hadn’t,” Mai continued, draining the rest of her drink in a quick gulp. Like magic, the bartender appeared with another glass of the same drink. “I’m tired of everyone acting like I have three months to live.”

“That’s exactly what it is!” Aang exclaimed, throwing his arms up in the air. The movement caused his drink to spill down his sleeve, and he bent it back into the glass without thinking. “Or like I’ve recently gone through a terrible tragedy.” He put on his most earnest puppy dog eyes and covered Mai’s free hand in his own. “Hey there, buddy,” he imitated the offensively soothing tone that everyone had assumed when speaking to him that night. “How you holding up? Wanna talk about it?” Mai’s expression didn’t change, but he could see a twinkle of amusement in her eye that hadn’t been there before. 

“Right? Like I’m still going to be heartbroken over someone I dated when I was a teenager,” Mai sounded offended at the very notion, but the speed with which she finished her drink told Aang it wasn’t entirely false. He could understand; the relationships they had formed during the war had been intense, and it was hard to let those feelings go.

“Katara keeps insisting we ‘hang out,’” Aang grumbled, setting down his drink so he can put up air quotes around the last two words. “Just the two of us, like the old days.” He shrugged. “Bless their hearts, they’re trying so hard, but I wish they’d just leave it alone.”

“Yeah, their guilt is really inconvenient,” Mai replied. “Zuko keeps trying to hire me to work in the palace guard so he can pay me a stupid amount of money.”

Aang laughed at that; he was very familiar with Zuko’s problem solving skills. He knew it came from a good place. Zuko was fixated on righting any wrongs he might have ever committed, and didn’t seem to grasp that sometimes the best thing he could do was just leave it alone and let time heal the wound. His first step was always an apology, stating everything wrong he had ever done and how he intended to be better in the future. Since he had become Fire Lord, the second step was usually lavish gifts and money. Aang had had to gently explain that, despite being the Avatar, if he went flying around in a bison saddle trimmed with gold and rubies, he was going to be robbed. Not to mention the fact that Appa would never be able to fly again with the weight of all the junk Zuko wanted to give him.

“I’m guessing you’ve turned him down?” Aang drawled, finishing his glass and adding it to the pyramid on the bar top. He blinked at the new drink that had seem to come out of nowhere, and made a mental note to tell Zuko to hire this bartender to work in the palace full time.

“Of course, I’m not a charity case,” Mai scowled. “Besides,” she hesitated, contemplating the drink in her hand. “I mean, obviously I’m over him, and I’m happy for them, and blah blah blah, all that crap. But I don’t exactly want to live in his house.”

Aang nodded slowly; he understood where Mai was coming from all too well. “What do you do for work?” he asked suddenly, realizing that he had no idea what Mai had been up to for the past five years. Aang felt his own pang of guilt that he hadn’t made more of an effort to keep in touch with her once she had broken up with Zuko, like she had only ever been an extension of him.

“I work in the Caldera City Museum, restoring and cataloguing the artifacts and texts.” Well, that was certainly not what he had expected. Mai clearly caught the look on his face, and shrugged. “I don’t hate it. I don’t have to talk to people, the pay is pretty nice, and since the war ended a lot of ancient relics from the other nations have been popping up all over the Fire Nation.” Aang wisely decided not to ask how these artifacts had ended up in the Fire Nation. He had seen enough stolen waterbending scrolls and poached badgermole pelts hanging on the walls of the Fire Nation elite to last a lifetime.

“Sounds interesting,” Aang responded, holding up his hands defensively as she shot him an suspicious glare that showed that she thought he was being sarcastic. “I mean it! As an ancient relic myself, I’m a huge fan of museums.” Mai didn’t laugh at the joke, but she did audibly exhale out her nose, which Aang took to be her equivalent of a laugh. “So are you still doing the…” he trailed off and began motioning with his arms, pantomiming reaching up his left sleeve with his right hand and waving his right arm back and forth, making a “ _whoosh_ ” sound with his mouth each time his hand shot towards her. “With the knives,” he clarifies. 

Mai raised one eyebrow. “Yes, I still have the knives. It’s more of a hobby now that I’m not an international assassin.” She finished her second drink, her tongue flicking out and capturing a stray droplet that caught on the corner of her mouth.

“What are you drinking anyway?” Aang asked as yet another glass of mysterious brown liquor appeared in Mai’s hand.

“Fire whiskey,” she replied. “Top shelf, finest in the city.”

Aang didn’t even want to know how much of the wedding budget was being sunk into Mai’s drinking tonight. “Can I try it?”

Mai gave him a bemused look, but offered the glass to him. The tiny sip that he took was enough to have him coughing and gagging, his eyes bugging out like a cartoon character. The harsh drink managed to be both hot in temperature and spice level. The shot of sake he did to wash the taste down did little to help.

“Spirits, you are insane,” he was finally able to say. He looked up just in time to catch Mai’s dangerous smirk that made his stomach do some interesting flips.

“A little.”

Aang cleared his throat, purely for fire whiskey reasons that had nothing to do with the way Mai’s fingers brushed against his as he handed the glass back to her. Silence fell between them, and Aang fully expected Mai to get bored and move on from him. 

“So what does the Avatar do?” she asked, rotating so she could rest both her elbows behind her on the bar. 

“The Avatar is the link between the human world and the spirit world,” Aang recited, his serious tone severely undercut by how much he was slurring his words. “Bridging divides, bringing peace, finding compromise, et cetera.”

“That’s not a job,” Mai replied dryly. “I mean, what do you _do_?”

Aang thought he understood what she was getting at. “I travel a lot. I talk to people, see if there’s anything they need help with. Sometimes there are problems with the local spirits, and I try to mediate. Same if there are problems between people. Sometimes people just want to talk.” He paused, letting his mind wander over the past decade. “I look for evidence of the Air Nomads,” he continued, quieter. “I check the air temples at least once a year, to see if any of them came back.” He didn’t have to say that he had yet to find anything, the continued lack of airbenders so long after the war was a hot topic in every nation.

He expected the usual awkward platitudes that he gets whenever he mentions the plight of his people. Nobody, especially nobody in the Fire Nation, ever seemed to know how to react. Instead, Mai said, “The museum has some Air Nomad items, if you’d like to see them.”

“What?!” Aang stood up straight, almost knocking down his glass pyramid. Relics from the Air Temples were notoriously rare; the manner in which they had been decimated meant that almost everything had been reduced to ash. “What do you have?”

“Not a lot. A few scrolls, some artwork. An undamaged robe. Some more necklaces like this,” she reached out to lift the pendant of Gyatso’s necklace from where it was laying against his chest, rubbing her thumb over the engraving on the front. 

“I would love to see them!” Aang exclaimed, a little louder than he had intended. “Thank you!” He got another one of those almost-smiles from Mai, where her mouth barely moved but her eyes crinkled a little.

“Heeeeey, party people!” A deafening voice rang out, cutting through the chatter of the crowd. Aang belatedly realized that the band had stopped playing a few minutes ago. Mai let go of the pendant and withdrew her hand from his chest, reaching out for the drink she had set on the bar. 

Sokka was on a small dais set against one wall, clearly drunker than Aang and Mai put together. Toph was standing next to him, holding onto his elbow. Since the entire palace was stone, Aang assumed that her intention was to keep the Water Tribe man standing upright, rather than because she needed the guidance. There was a large stone vessel at each corner of the dais, but other than that it was completely bare. Katara and Zuko were standing just in front of the stage, clearly giggling at Sokka’s antics. As though his yell hadn’t been enough to get everyone’s attention, Sokka began waving his arms over his head. 

“First of all, thank you all for being here, to celebrate the union of my baby sister and His Royal Fieriness,” Sokka continued, ignoring the annoyed groans from the newly married couple. “Seriously, it means so much to have our friends and family from all four nations here to share this day with us.” Aang felt a sharp pain at the mention of the four nations, painfully aware that he was the only one in orange in a sea of red, green, and blue.

“To commemorate their marriage, the blushing groom and his obnoxious bride will perform—Katara, please stop throwing things at me, I’m talking,” Sokka interrupted himself to duck the wadded up napkin that Katara had chucked at his head. “Anyway, the new couple have put together a bending demonstration to entertain us. Take it away!” Sokka stepped down from the stage with very minimal stumbling, though Aang suspected that Toph’s iron grip on his arm had something to do with that. A cheer went up as Katara and Zuko stepped onto the stage, and before long the entire ballroom was clapping and shouting. Aang set his drink down so he could join in. Mai did not.

As the two benders bowed formally to each other and took their beginning stances, a hush fell over the crowd. The band began to play a thumping, heavy beat, and they began to move. Katara drew her arms up, pulling water from the vases at the corners of the stage. Zuko created two fire whips, one trailing from each of his fists. They began to dance, the water and fire intertwining above and around them. Occasionally, the two elements would touch, eliciting a loud hiss and a cloud of steam. As usual, Aang found his attention drawn to Katara. She moved through each form precisely, deliberately, flawlessly. She danced like the ocean itself, gracefully flowing and gliding across the stage. Her jaw was clenched and her eyebrow furrowed, clearly using all of her focus. Every so often though, she would meet Zuko’s gaze, and the ensuing smile was like the sun peeking out from behind a cloud.

Aang suddenly realized he was watching way too intensely with his dopey “looking at Katara” face, and promptly ducked his head to stare at his drink. He glanced over at Mai, who was also intently observing the performance with her lips pursed and her hand clenched around her glass. A second later, she too dropped her eyes down and took a long swig of her drink. Aang chanced a look back up at the dais, where Katara and Zuko were building up their grand finale: a dragon made of fire with water wings, looming over the hall. With a fluid synchronous movement, the pair smashed the elements together in a final explosion of steam, which obscured the stage. A thunder of applause shook the ballroom, and when the steam cleared Katara and Zuko stepped forward and bowed deeply, first to each other, then to the audience. Then they were laughing and cheering themselves, and Katara flung herself into Zuko’s arms, letting him swing her around in a circle before kissing him deeply. 

“I’m bored.” Aang turned sharply toward Mai, noting the extra tightness in her monotone voice. “Let’s get out of here. Don’t you have that flying cow thing?”

“Actually, he’s a sky _bison_ ,” Aang corrected her, his intoxicated brain taking a minute to grasp the shift in their conversation. “And also I’ve had way too much sake to fly.” He had learned the hard way that alcohol absolutely did not mix with air travel. People were rightfully horrified whenever he flung himself out of the saddle, and his depth perception was always a bit off when he was trying to land.

Mai rolled her eyes, downed the rest of her drink, and slammed it on the bar. “Whatever, I’m leaving.” She began to walk away, but Aang reached out and snatched her wrist. “Wait,” he said, without really having much of a follow-up. His mind was whirling; a large part of him felt like he should stay at the party. There were a lot of people here that he hadn’t seen in a long time, and he really did want to show his support for Katara and Zuko. Whatever else had happened, they were two of his closest friends. However, the only part of the reception that he had enjoyed so far was talking to Mai. And he wondered if maybe, for one night, it was okay to forget about being Aang the Avatar, King of Compromise, and be Aang, the guy who was very bored and desperate to have just a little fun tonight.

A thought occurred to him, and a mischievous grin spread across his face. “Let’s take the royal carriage instead.”

Mai looked at him thoughtfully, and then she did something that Aang wasn’t sure he had ever seen her do: she smiled. Not one of those eye-smiles, or a smirk at the corner of her lips. This was a full, dazzling _smile,_ one that made Aang blink at how much it lit up the room. 

“Yeah. That’s better.”

It was shockingly easy to steal the royal carriage. The coachmen who maintained it took a little convincing, but very few people could stand up against the “Of course it’s okay, I’m the Avatar” argument. Moments later, the ostrich-horses were hooked up and Aang was perched on the driver’s box, his long legs drawn up uncomfortably under himself and the reins clutched in his hands. A footman offered to help Mai into the carriage, but she ignored him and hopped up next to Aang, squishing herself into the small space. “Ready?” Aang asked, peering sideways at her with a spark in his eyes. She nodded, a trace of the smile still on her face. Before the palace workers could ask any more questions, Aang snapped the reins and shouted “Yip yip!”, and the well-trained ostrich-horses took off.

Although the actual wedding and reception were only attended by friends and family, the entire city was celebrating the marriage. Civilians were out in the streets, drinking and dancing to street bands and filling their stomachs with food from roadside vendors. Their only warning for impending disaster was Aang’s gleeful whooping and the rumble of the wheels bouncing against the street. Most people were used to such shenanigans during festivals, and it was pure instinct to grab everything they could and press themselves against the sides of the buildings as the carriage came ripping through the street. However, they were accustomed to the carts and wagons that drunken teenagers would race through the streets, and they gaped at the sight of the opulent royal carriage tearing past, driven by the distinctive willowy figure of the Avatar himself. After he shot by, they cautiously returned to the street, the only sign of the disturbance the echo of Aang yelling “sorry!” over his shoulder.

Aang took a corner too sharply and the outer wheel lifted into the air. The carriage tipped precariously, almost parallel to the ground, and Mai sunk her nails into Aang’s arm to keep from falling out. Without breaking a beat, Aang jerked his elbow to bend a rock ledge against the upturned wheel, giving it something to brace against and allowing the carriage to balance itself. The wheel jumped from the earthbent ledge back to the cobblestone street with a resounding _crash,_ causing one of the bolts that held the wheel in place to fall off. Aang craned his neck and watched the bolt roll into a sewer, then shrugged. “Probably not that important,” he said breezily, snapping the reins again. He turned to check on Mai, only to be caught offguard by that smile again. She was still holding onto his arm, but she was also leaning over the side of the driver’s box, letting the breeze ripple through her previously immaculate hair. Over the sound of the rushing wind, he was pretty sure he could hear her laugh.

Even in his current inebriated state, Aang knew better than to keep careening through the streets full of people trying to celebrate. He directed the carriage towards the shopping district, where fewer people lived. With almost everybody partying in their neighborhoods, the streets here were empty. Aang took another corner way too fast, the top of the carriage snapping off a sign that was hanging over a fabric store. “Whoops,” he said cheerfully, not sounding terribly apologetic. “Do you want to drive?” he yelled towards Mai, holding out the reins to her. She took them from him and expertly cracked them to urge the ostrich-horses onward. His hands free, Aang stood up in the driver’s box, bracing his hand against the top of the carriage.

“What are you doing?” Mai cast an exasperated glance up at him. Both of them had to shout to be heard over the wind.

“I want to ride on top!” Aang answered, swinging himself up on top of the carriage before Mai could argue. She turned in her seat to give him her best “are you a fucking idiot?” glare, and he smiled sunnily back at her. “Just keep driving!” he encouraged her, slowly rising to his feet. He took a wide stance with his arms spread out to keep himself balanced. It reminded him of surfing on Ember Island with Katara on boards made of ice, but he pushed that thought aside. Instead, he reveled in the feeling of being out in the air, the currents flowing around him, both trying to dislodge him and cradling him. 

Mai scooched over so she was sitting the middle of the driver’s box. Without saying anything, she jerked on the right rein, causing the carriage to do an almost instant 90-degree turn. Caught off guard, Aang shrieked and lost his balance, falling to one knee and bracing his hands on the roof of the carriage. Mai glanced up at him with a wicked grin, and Aang couldn’t help but beam back at her.

“You’ll have to try harder than that to get rid of me,” he said, pulling himself to his feet again. Mai took that as a challenge and goaded the ostrich-horses to run even faster, but Aang was playing the game now too. He bent a smooth bump in the road in front of them, just big enough that when the carriage went over it at full speed, all four wheels and ostrich-horse feet flew off the ground. They were in the air for a good few seconds before the entire thing crashed back down to the earth. The ostrich-horses squawked indignantly at their unwanted experience in flight, and the wheel that had lost a bolt was definitely wobbling more than it had been at the start. 

“You are _insane!_ ” Mai hollered, though from his position above her Aang could see that she was still grinning. He leapt in the air and used his airbending to float down next to her in the driver’s box. She had to move back over to make enough space for him, their sides and arms still pressed together in a grounding way.

“A little,” he echoed her response from earlier, and she shot him a look that tried to be annoyed but mostly came off amused. She passed the reins back over to him, and he allowed the carriage to slow down, the ostrich-horses clearly relieved at the change of pace. “We should probably head back,” he added regretfully. Though he had had more fun in the past 10 minutes than he had the entire rest of his trip, it was getting late, and the alcohol in his system was making his eyes heavy. Mai simply nodded, and Aang pulled the carriage around back the way they had come, this time at a smooth trot.

They travelled most of the way back to the palace in a companionable silence. Aang took a longer way back, skirting around the busiest parts of the city. The summer air was warm and comfortable, even at night, and the air vaguely smelled of spices and flowers. Aang gazed up at the expanse of stars above them, and the full moon that hovered almost directly overhead. 

“Do you still love her?” Startled, Aang turned towards Mai, but she wasn’t looking at him. She was also staring up at the stars. Aang wordlessly opened his mouth, then shut it again. “Katara. I saw how you were watching her,” Mai continued, her voice carefully neutral. 

Aang paused to think about it. “I think a part of me will always love her,” he answered truthfully. “She was the first person I saw when I woke up after a 100 years. We spent four years traveling together, taking care of each other, protecting each other. I don’t think feelings like that can just go away.” He shrugged, turning his attention back to the stars. “But I’m not _in_ love with her anymore, if that’s what you’re asking.” They lapsed into silence again, before Aang asked, “Do you still love him?”

“No,” Mai answered instantly. “I…it was different, with us. I cared about him, but I was also angry with him a lot. He’s still so caught up in his own honor and legacy, he wouldn’t do anything without considering the political ramifications. He would go days without eating or sleeping. I felt like I was watching him destroy himself. He refused to share the burden, he just made me watch him slowly fade away.” Perhaps realizing that she was sharing more than she had intended, Mai shook herself and sat up straight. “Anyway, we’re fine now,” she continued crisply. “That was years ago. We’ve grown up past that.”

Aang had long since switched his attention from the sky to the woman sitting next to him. He considered what she had said, knowing full well what those first few years of Zuko being the Fire Lord was like. It was hard enough for him, seeing his friend kill himself with his work. He couldn’t imagine what it had been like for Mai, sitting next to him and helplessly watching it happen. “Things from years ago can still hurt,” he said cryptically. Mai didn’t say anything, and he wisely dropped it. 

The carriage trundled back to the palace stables. Aang jumped out of the perch, gliding gently to the ground. Mai leapt out after him, landing lightly on her feet. He could see the head of one of the coachmen peeking out from the stables, and gave the carriage an appraising look. Taking in the exhausted, panting ostrich-horses, the wheel that was definitely on the verge of falling off, and the scrape marks scrawled across both sides, Aang wisely decided that it would probably be in their best interest to not to dawdle. 

“We should go,” he muttered, grabbing Mai’s hand and pulling her towards the palace. They ran until they were out of sight of the coachmen, but Mai dug in her feet as Aang tried to pull her through the side entrance they had snuck out of. 

“I don’t want to go back,” she said, pulling her hand out of his to cross her arms. She didn’t look quite as intimidating as she usually did, with her wild, wind-swept hair, but her expression told Aang he’d have a better chance turning back time than winning this argument with her. He froze, one hand on the door handle. He really wasn’t looking forward to rejoining the reception either. The adrenaline rush of their little adventure had worn off and he was tired, and he did not relish resuming his place in the sad Avatar corner. He wondered if this was perhaps Mai’s way of trying to get rid of him, but he brushed that thought aside. Any idiot could see that she had actually enjoyed herself tonight, and Aang suspected that if she wanted him to leave her alone, she would just tell him. 

“I guess I don’t either,” he said softly, taking a step back from the door and letting his arm drop to his side. He met Mai’s glance, and she looked him over thoughtfully. The quiet stretched on just long enough for Aang to find it unbearable before Mai spoke up. 

“Want to go to my place? I don’t have any of that terrible sake you were drinking, but I do have a bottle of guilt wine from Zuko that cost more than my rent.”

Well, he’d have to be a fool to turn down an offer like that. Besides, if anyone else deserved to drink that fancy guilt wine, it was Aang. After a night of recklessness that he was 100% blaming on the sake, he figured he could get away with just a bit more. Grinning, he draped an arm over Mai’s shoulders, tucking her against his side. “Lead the way!”


	2. a shimmering balance act

Aang woke up the next morning in an unfamiliar place with a pounding headache. Groaning, he threw one arm over his eyes to block out the sunlight that was shining directly onto his face. He remained like that for a few minutes before his overwhelming thirst drove him to move. He sat up on the couch he had been draped across, squinting blearily in the early morning light. With a grunt, he swiped a hand across his face, before summoning all his energy and managing to stand up. He shuffled over to the washroom and splashed cold water on his face, cupping his hands to take a drink as well. Already feeling somewhat refreshed, he went back into the living room and appraised his surroundings with fresh eyes.

Last night, he had been surprised that Mai didn’t take him to the lavish mansion directly across the street from the palace. It was, after all, where she had been living the last time he had visited the Fire Nation. She explained that her parents owned the house, but she preferred to live somewhere that she paid for herself. Instead, she had dragged him down the street to a large apartment complex, past an apathetic doorman to the top floor. They had opened the bottle of guilt wine and Aang had gotten through about half a glass before his eyelids began fluttering shut. Mai had disappeared into her bedroom for a moment, returning to the living room with a pillow and a blanket. In the time she had been gone, Aang had already flopped back on the couch, half asleep. Though she had thrown the folded blanket onto his lap, he could remember her lifting his head up with uncharacteristic gentleness to slide the pillow underneath it.

The living room itself was modestly decorated; Mai didn’t appear to adhere to the Fire Nation interior design technique of throwing the flame insignia on everything. The entire space was very neat, with very few trinkets or decorations. Aang wandered over to the walls, where a few paintings were displayed. There was one of her and an older couple he recognized as her parents, done when she was a teenager. There were a few of a young boy at various stages of life, from infant to pre-teen, that Aang realized with a shock must be her younger brother, Tom-Tom. He touched his fingertips to the latest painting of the two of them, doing the math in his head. Right now, Tom-Tom would be about the age that Aang was when he had been recovered from the iceberg. Thinking about the toddler he had (accidentally) taken hostage being a 12-year-old boy made Aang feel old, so he moved on.

The next portrait made him smile; it was Mai and Ty Lee together, clearly done recently. Ty Lee was wearing her Kyoshi warrior uniform and makeup, and she had both arms wrapped around Mai in a side hug. Aang marveled that the painter had been able to capture Mai’s almost-smile, the one that barely flickered around the corners of her mouth but shone through her eyes. The last few were landscapes, places that Aang could identify from sites around the Fire Nation. There was one that was undoubtably the beach at Ember Island, one of an aerial view of Caldera City, and one of a field of fire lilies. Aang frowned, noticing that there were no pictures of Zuko or Azula, nor any new friends or significant others. He tucked that thought away for later and moved on to the next wall, which was dominated by a huge world map. The paper the map was drawn on was brown with age, the edges almost completely shredded. A date in one corner put the map’s creation at almost 1,000 years ago.

Aang’s snooping was interrupted by a large growl from his stomach, and he made a beeline for the kitchen. Like the living room, it was meticulously organized and clean. Poking around through the well-stocked cupboards, he was pleased to find the green tea that he liked to drink in the morning. He filled a kettle with water and set it on the stove, lighting it with a short tap of his finger. While the water boiled, he continued searching for food that he could keep down, the sake and wine still churning unpleasantly in his stomach. Inspiration struck when he found a small pot of miso paste, and within a few minutes he had a saucepan heating on the stove as well as he chopped up tofu and scallions for miso soup. 

The combination of the smell of the soup, the relaxing tedium of preparing breakfast, and the warm sunlight filling the room eased Aang’s headache and bolstered his mood. He found himself whistling cheerfully as he took the kettle off the stove just before it boiled, and poured it over the tea leaves he had prepared in two mugs. He stirred the soup to dissolve the miso paste, then used his knife to scrape the tofu into the saucepan. He only looked up when he heard a faint groan coming from the living room.

Mai was standing in the doorway of her bedroom, still in her pajamas and with an oversized shawl comically wrapped around her shoulders. Her glossy black hair was even messier than it had been last night, and there were dark purple circles under her eyes. She made another half-growl, half-grumble sound, and she could not be scowling harder if she tried. 

Undeterred (and perhaps a little encouraged) by this show of morning grumpiness, Aang smiled brightly. “Good morning!” he proclaimed, making a show of pushing one of the tea cups towards her. “Tea? The soup will be ready in a few minutes.” Mai gave him her most withering glare and plodded over to the kitchen. Two hands emerged from the shawl cocoon to grasp the cup of tea, which she carried to the dining table. “Of course,” she muttered, collapsing in a chair before bringing the mug up to her face and inhaling deeply. “Of course you’re a morning person.” Mai’s tone implied that in her view, this was a grave character flaw.

“It’s a firebender thing. We rise with the sun,” Aang replied, turning back to the soup. Though he was not a firebender by birth, he had cultivated his connection to the sun, appreciating that spiritual link just as much as the actual power of firebending.

“Yeah, I’ve heard that before,” Mai said sourly, and with a jolt Aang remembered which firebender _he_ had picked up the phrase from. Aang coughed awkwardly, but Mai continued in her usual neutral tone, not giving him time to try to apologize. “I can’t believe you’re this lively when you’re hungover.”

Aang laughed at that, ladling the miso into two bowls and sprinkling scallions in each one. “If it helps, I feel terrible,” he admitted, bringing the two bowls over to the table and setting one in front of Mai. “Also, I think that fire whiskey you were drinking all night is actual poison.” He propped his head up on his hand, elbow braced against the table, so his face was directly over the gently steaming bowl of soup. His eyes fluttered shut, betraying that he was not as awake and merry as he was acting. It had been a long time since he had drunk as much as he had last night, and his body was reminding him that he was not 18 anymore.

Never one for small talk, Mai ate breakfast in silence, and Aang followed suit. He felt more and more revived once he had something in his stomach, and the caffeine in the tea was helping as well. As the sun rose higher and the apartment slowly warmed up, Mai discarded her shawl haphazardly on the couch. At some point in the morning, she had run her fingers through her hair and plaited it in a long, messy braid that hung over her shoulder. Aang finished eating first and leaned back in his chair, sipping his tea and looking around the apartment. He wanted to ask why she was living there, why there weren’t any pictures of other people on her wall, where the map had come from. But none of those felt appropriate for first thing in the morning, to someone he didn’t know that well.

“You should go,” Mai said suddenly, setting her mug down. Aang blinked at her in surprise, a little shocked at how much that hurt. He obviously hadn’t intended to bum around her apartment all day, but he hadn’t expected to get kicked out before 7 AM. He cleared his throat and pushed his chair back, picking up his dishes to bring to the kitchen. “Oh. Right.”

Mai seemed to see something in the expression on his face, and rolled her eyes. “Spirits, don’t pout. I have to get ready for work and I still smell like a bar.” Aang visibly relaxed at her explanation and he ruefully thought about how, even at 22 years old, nothing hurt his feelings quite like somebody not liking him. 

“Oh really?” he drawled, leaning one elbow back on the table and waggling his eyebrows suggestively. “Or do you just not want anyone to see the Avatar leaving your place?” Mai didn’t react to the joke, instead getting to her feet and walking past him into the kitchen, plucking the bowl from his hand as she brushed by him. “I doubt I have to worry about that, considering I basically had to carry your drunk ass over here,” she replied breezily, putting the dishes in the sink. “If anything, the bigger scandal will be whether or not I’ve done away with you.”

Aang laughed at that. “To be fair, I’m pretty sure you did try to kill me with the carriage last night.”

“You were standing on top of a moving vehicle, no jury would ever convict me.” Mai was smiling now, just a little bit. Aang moved behind her, intending to help wash the dishes, but she nudged him sharply with her elbow and refused to let him near the sink. “Out. Now.”

He held up his hands in defeat. “Okay, I’ll go and clear up any rumors about my demise. I’ll even use the front door so there are as many witnesses as possible.”

“There’s only the one door,” Mai responded, confused. He grinned mischievously and pointed to the living room window, which opened onto a balcony. “Do whatever you want, daredevil,” she shrugged and turned back to the dishes.

Aang genuinely considered it for a moment (if only to show off), but shook his head. “Nah, I’ll save the death-defying stunts for when my head doesn’t feel like it’s already hit the ground. Besides, it’s more fun when I have my glider.”

Mai hummed noncommittally. “I guess you’ll have to bring it next time,” she stated, and Aang beamed. That could not be a more obvious invitation than if she had actually asked him to visit her again. And Aang did want to see her again; Mai was much more than Zuko’s ex-girlfriend, and he truly felt like he had made a new friend. 

“Until next time,” he called jovially as he scanned the living room to make sure he hadn’t forgotten anything. Satisfied that all his belongings were still on his person, he headed to the door. “Have a good day at work!” he called over his shoulder in a sing-songy voice before letting it slam shut behind him.

* * *

The palace was already buzzing as Aang snuck back in, servants bustling about cleaning, cooking, and whatever else needed to happen to run a palace. Aang managed to evade notice, making his way noiselessly to his quarters. Every time Aang stayed in the fire palace, he negotiated himself a smaller and smaller room. At first, Zuko had insisted on giving him the largest suite, which held three separate bedrooms and an indoor pool. Aang had to keep reminding him that sleeping in a large space alone made him antsy and uncomfortable, as did the gaudy trappings that adorned each suite. By now, he had talked himself down into a simple one bedroom, with a washroom and a split living room and kitchen. It was still a little much, but he was happier with it.

Aang breathed a sigh of relief as he approached his door, but paused when the handle moved before he could touch it. The next thing he knew, he was face to face with Toph. The two benders froze in shock, but Toph came to her senses first. She did so by pointing at him and loudly yelling, “HA!” 

“‘Ha’ what?” Aang asked, wondering if the situation was really as weird as he thought it was, or if his brain was still addled from the hangover. He tried to move past the earthbender, but she put her arms up on either side of the door, blocking him out. “Toph, this is my room,” he explained patiently. 

“Oh, I know it’s your room, Twinkle Toes,” she announced, still not using an inside voice. “I came by to see if you wanted to spar, and you weren’t here.”

Aang rubbed the back of his neck. “Oh, heh, yeah, I got up early to meditate.”

“Then _why_ ,” Toph gestured dramatically back towards the room. “Are all your things still packed up? And why hasn’t the bed been slept in?” And why,” she paused, reaching out to pinch the front of his shirt. “are you still wearing your clothes from last night? Also, you smell.”

“You’re one to talk, detective,” Aang good-naturedly dislodged her hand from his shirt. “Are you still drunk?” Toph was definitely not into sparring first thing in the morning, unless she had been up all night drinking. 

“Yes, but that is irrelevant,” Toph stubbornly replied, crossing her arms. “You didn’t answer any of my questions. Where were you all night?” 

“What! You think…How dare you accuse me…after everything we’ve been through, honestly, I thought we were friends,” Aang prattled on in fake outrage, maneuvering his way around Toph so that he was standing inside the doorway and she was out in the hallway. “I hope you think about what you’ve done. Anyway, I have to get ready for the Team Avatar breakfast. See you later!” With that, he closed the door in her face, then braced himself against it. After a second, the stone door began to shake on its hinges as Toph hammered on it from the other side. 

“Foul play, Twinkle Toes! See if I ever try to fight you again!” With that, Aang could hear her stomping away down the hallway. Chuckling at the incorrigible earthbender, Aang straightened up from the door and stretched his back, a series of satisfying pops cracking up his spine. The sight of Toph had reminded him that their friend group had, in fact, arranged to eat breakfast together the morning after the reception. They had wisely chosen to meet late in the morning, so Aang had plenty of time to bathe and change.

He went into the bedroom and did a quick lap, closing all of the drawers and closet doors that Toph had left open when she had ransacked it. He didn’t hold the break-in against her; Toph was very good at pushing boundaries without crossing them. She hadn’t taken anything from the room, and his bag with all of his belongings was untouched. He wasn’t terribly pleased that someone had already figured out that he was out all night, but there wasn’t anything he could do about it now.

After unpacking, washing up, and changing his clothes, Aang decided to go check on Appa. The sky bison was still snoring peacefully when Aang entered the stable, though he blinked unsteadily as the man flopped over onto his forehead. Aang giggled as the bison stood up, sticking out his tongue and coating Aang in drool from head to foot. “Good morning, buddy,” he said, wiping one sleeve across his head and neck. “How was your night? Did you behave?” Appa groaned, exhaling a draft of warm air that ruffled the edges of Aang’s clothes. “Yeah, me neither.” He stretched his arm behind Appa’s horn and scratched the soft fur there. Appa grunted again, leaning into his hand. Aang looked around the stable and noted, with a pang in his heart, that there was still a little perch tucked away in the upper corner. Momo had passed away almost five years ago, but apparently Zuko hadn’t been able to take it down yet. Aang had asked about it, once, and the Fire Lord had shrugged and said that he could save it for the next one. Aang had yet to find another flying lemur.

Pushing aside all of his gloomiest thoughts, Aang buried his face in Appa’s fur near his eye, giving him an exaggerated kiss. “We’ll go out flying later, I promise.” Glancing out at the sun, Aang realized that it was almost time for breakfast. After one final hug for the sky bison, Aang made his way back inside, heading for Zuko’s private dining room.

* * *

It was painfully clear that, no matter how poorly Aang was feeling, his friends were all feeling much worse. Zuko’s face was pale and drawn, and Katara was leaning on his shoulder, half-asleep. Sokka was slumped forward in his chair, nursing a cup of tea. Toph, of course, was still drunk, but even she appeared to be flagging, one hand clutched around a glass that Aang prayed was full of water. Aang took a seat next to the earthbender and poured himself his own cup of tea. “Morning!” he greeted them brightly, earning himself a round of groans from the rest of the table.

“How?” Sokka complained. “How are you in a good mood?”

“He’s probably faking it to be annoying,” Toph griped, half-heartedly punching out towards him and glancing off his shoulder. “You drank an entire bar of sake, there’s no way you’re not hungover,” she directed that towards Aang.

Aang sniffed, unwilling to admit that Toph was right. “Maybe it’s my amazing Avatar powers that keep me from getting hungover.”

“Where were those amazing Avatar powers two years ago when Sokka tried to take you fishing after you drank half a bottle of wine and you threw up before you even left port?” Katara piped up, her eyes still closed. At the round of laughter that went up around the table, everyone seemed to perk up a little bit. Zuko had a servant bring in some light food, and pointedly had a glass of water placed in front of each person. Aang reached past Toph to pick up a pastry, noting that he was still pretty hungry after his breakfast of soup. He nibbled on the pastry as the topic of conversation predictably turned to the wedding.

“That was some party,” Sokka was saying appreciatively, in between mouthfuls of food. “Definitely one of the top five weddings I’ve been to.”

“How many weddings have you been to?” Katara countered, raising an eyebrow. Sokka took a moment to think about it. “Five,” he finally answered, eliciting a cackle from Toph. “You have some tough competition! Remember that insane food fight at Suki and Ty Lee’s wedding? I’m just saying, nobody dropped an entire cake on Zuko last night.”

The table burst into laughter again, though that reminded Aang that he hadn’t seen a certain couple of Kyoshi warriors at the reception. “Why weren’t Suki and Ty Lee here?” he asked quietly to Toph as the other three argued about the placement of last night’s wedding in the ranking system of ‘best weddings Sokka has been to.’

Toph shrugged. “Something about how they’re on a super secret undercover spy mission in the Earth Kingdom. They would have compromised their positions if they had left.” She stuck a hand out, and Aang obligingly broke his pastry in half and handed the uneaten portion to her. It was too bad that the two warrior women hadn’t been able to go to the wedding, Aang reflected. They were much better at acting normal about him and Katara since the break up than anybody else, mostly because they didn’t insist on talking about it at every turn.

Aang tuned back into the conversation just in time to hear Zuko say, “Well I guess you’ll have to have your own spectacular wedding to show the rest of us how it’s done.”

“That would require him to actually be dating someone,” Katara teased, leaning forward and propping her chin on her hands. “How long have you been single?”

Sokka opened his mouth to retort, but Toph steamrolled over him “What about that girl in the new southern village? Ayiri? I thought you were going to ask her out?”

“He chickened out,” Katara replied gleefully. 

“No, she turned him down,” Zuko corrected her, very noticeably trying not to laugh as Sokka dramatically pointed at him.

“Traitor!” he shouted, loud enough to make everyone at the table wince. “I told you not to tell Katara about that!” 

“No you didn’t,” Zuko said, sounding confused.

“Well it’s _implied_ that all my women-related problems are secrets from Katara,” Sokka shot back, crossing his arms huffily.

“So you are having problems!”

“I didn’t say that!”

“Yes, you totally did.”

“We all heard you, Sokka.”

“Hey, if you ever need lady advice, I’m always here—"

“Toph has a secret girlfriend!” Sokka blurted out, bringing the barrage to a screeching halt. Toph gaped, turning bright red. The attention all shifted to her, and she sputtered incoherently. “I’m…you…that isn’t…we’ve only been together like a week, I didn’t want you weirdos scaring her off!”

“Ooooh, what’s her name?” Katara probed, effortlessly shifting from goading her brother to Toph.

“None of your business!” Toph grumbled. 

“Come on, you can’t tell Sokka and not me, that’s—"

“Aang was out all night!” Aang gasped at the betrayal, not expecting to be the next one in line to be thrown to the wolves. He glared at Toph, who obviously couldn’t see it, and who was redundantly pointing at him. Zuko, Katara, and Sokka all leaned in towards him, and he leaned back in his chair.

“Okay, first of all, I was an innocent bystander this whole time,” Aang protested, not making eye contact with anyone. “Also, I was at the reception all night.”

“But you left early,” Aang’s attention snapped to Katara as she spoke, staring him down thoughtfully. She exchanged a look with Zuko before continuing. “You were talking to Mai, and then we did the bending demonstration, and then nobody could find you the rest of the night.”

Aang could feel his palms sweating, and he opened his mouth to defend himself. Before he could say a word, a messenger entered the room and made his way directly to the Fire Lord. Zuko frowned at the intrusion, but the messenger leaned down to whisper something in his ear. Zuko nodded, took the envelope from the messenger’s hand, and sent him on his way. As Zuko opened the envelope and began to read, Aang breathed a sigh of relief, thankful for the distraction. The relief was short-lived; Zuko was fixing him with his most fiery glare, and Aang had a sneaking suspicion that he knew what was in that letter.

“It seems,” Zuko began slowly, handing the letter over to Katara to read. “That we’ve spent the morning getting complaints from civilians about the royal carriage tearing through the city, destroying private property. One landlord says that the driver of the carriage earthbent a ledge directly in front of his building.” As Zuko spoke, one by one, everyone’s eyes turned to Aang. “The coachmen claim that somebody borrowed the royal carriage last night, and returned it with the ostrich-horses exhausted, a broken wheel, and covered in scratches.” By now, everyone’s eyes were wide as dinner plates, and Katara had her hand over her mouth. “And what’s _really_ interesting,” Zuko finished, and Aang had to resist the urge to roll his eyes at how intentionally dramatic the man was making all of this. “Is that everyone claims that the driver was the Avatar, accompanied by a young woman.”

The room was dead quiet for a few seconds. Aang shifted uncomfortably in his seat.

“Holy shit,” Toph said faintly. She turned to Aang, clasped her hands together, and bowed to him deeply. “The student of chaos becomes the master.”

Sokka snorted at that, and it was pretty clear that the hand that Katara had clapped over her mouth was to stifle her incredulous giggles. Zuko was the only one who didn’t seem amused. “So, Aang, care to explain where you went last night?”

* * *

Aang had talked himself out of far worse situations, and it didn’t take long before he had his friends clutching their stomachs, doubled over in laughter as he recounted his exploits of the previous evening. Even Zuko couldn’t help chuckling, though he tried to cover up the sound with a cough. He did artfully omit a few details: the reason that he and Mai had originally left the wedding in the first place, and why they hadn’t returned after the carriage ride. He smoothed over those lapses in his story by focusing on his adventure in the city, even jumping on the table to recreate his ride on top of the carriage. After the laughter died down and Zuko wrangled a promise from Aang that he would fix the streets he had earthbent, they seemed content to let the topic go and move on to something else. Aang settled back in his seat, exhaling a long sigh of relief, before turning back to Toph. “So,” he started, leaning close to the blind earthbender. “What’s this about a secret girlfriend?”

The next hour passed pleasantly, the five of them easily falling back into their old dynamics. It warmed Aang’s heart every time, the reassurance that no matter the time and distance between them, they would always be able to come back to this. All too soon, Sokka and Toph were standing up. They had switched roles from the reception; now Sokka had his hand braced against Toph’s shoulder, holding her upright. Aang felt a pang that he didn’t have more time with his friends, but they were all so busy it was impossible to be in the same place for more than a few days. They huddled together in a group hug, Aang using his lanky arms to their full advantage to gather as many of them as he possibly could. They filed out to the air balloon that would carry Sokka back to the Southern Water Tribe, and Toph to her earthbending school in Omashu. Katara had both of her arms wrapped around her brother’s elbow, propping her head on his shoulder and ignoring how difficult it was to walk like that. Aang was just behind Sokka and Toph, his arms draped over both of their shoulders to soak up as much of their comforting heat as he could. Eventually, the hugs and well wishes had to end, and Sokka and Toph had to board the air ship. 

Aang waved until the balloon was just a speck in the sky.

He turned back to Zuko and Katara, who had their arms loosely around each other’s waists. They were still watching the balloon with matching wistful looks on their faces. 

“I should probably go too,” Aang said, breaking the silence. Katara and Zuko exchanged cryptic glances, then Katara stepped towards Aang.

“You don’t have to,” she stated, placing a comforting hand on his arm. “We know you’re busy, but we haven’t seen you in almost a year. We would really like it if you stayed a little longer.”

“Well…” Aang trailed off, resentfully wishing that he wasn’t still so susceptible to those striking blue eyes. Zuko reached out to clasp his other arm, his expression pleading, and Aang knew he was a goner. “Please, Aang.”

Aang exhaled, all of his resistance leaving his body with that single breath. “I guess I can stay a few more days,” he relented, and he was once again pulled into a bone-crushing hug. _How bad could it be?_ he wondered optimistically.

* * *

After a normal day of work made even more excruciating by her hangover, Mai could almost imagine that the events of the previous night were an elaborate daydream. She was therefore not expecting to see the Avatar crouching on her balcony that evening, knocking on the window. She froze, staring stupidly as he began cheekily waving to her, then gathered herself together. She unlocked and opened the window, standing in the gap to block his path. “Can I help you?” she asked in her usual deadpan tone, leaning against the window frame. Aang straightened up, matching her posture by supporting himself on his glider.

“I believe I was promised fancy guilt wine,” he answered breezily, as if this were a normal situation and he hadn’t snuck onto a woman’s balcony. Mai raised an eyebrow.

“I believe you already had some wine last night.”

“That didn’t count,” Aang replied. “I fell asleep before I got to enjoy it.” Mai reflected on that. Truthfully, she was glad to see the airbender. Mai had been absolutely dreading Zuko’s wedding, especially once she found out Ty Lee wasn’t going to make it. Not that she held anything against the newly married couple, of course. But Zuko’s awkward self-deprecating guilt was suffocating, to the point that sometimes she idly wished that he would go back to yelling at her. And while Katara was nice enough, it was obvious that the waterbender didn’t know what to make of Mai, and would avoid her whenever she could. Mai had thus anticipated spending the night alone, surrounded by Zuko’s friends and Fire Nation nobles, all skirting carefully around her. But Aang had surprised her; he was charming and reckless in a way that the people that she spent her time with were not. Before she could overthink it too much, she moved out of the way and inclined her head. Aang’s ever-present, infuriating grin widened, and he stepped over the threshold. 

For a second, neither of them moved any further into the apartment, standing only inches apart. It felt like a game, to Mai, and she was very good with these kinds of games. So her expression didn’t change as the Avatar stared her down, nor did she flinch when he extended an arm past her to lean his staff against the wall. His next move in the game, however, was a shocker: he wrapped his arms around her in an affectionate hug. She was so startled that she froze, stiff as a board, and by the time her brain had caught up with the rest of her he had already let her go. “It’s good to see you, Mai,” he said warmly as he finally brushed past her, making his way to her kitchen. To her credit, she composed herself quickly and followed him, wondering if she had perhaps miscalculated the game that he was playing.

He had already pulled out the wine bottle, and was now rummaging through her cabinets for glasses. Mai closed all the cabinet doors that he had left ajar, plucked the wine bottle from his hands, and pointed to the glasses they had used last night that had been washed and left to dry on the counter. Aang obediently brought the glasses over to her and watched silently as she poured the wine. He made a whining noise in his throat when she moved to close the bottle after filling each glass a third full; Mai met his eyes, sighed, and poured until the liquid neared the top of each cup.

They found themselves sprawled in the living room, the balcony window still open to let in the night air. Mai was reclining on her couch, both legs primly tucked underneath her body. Aang had inexplicably chosen to sit on the floor, his back against the same couch. Aang was very easy to talk to, and Mai found herself elaborating on her work, her coworkers, her hobbies. If he noticed that she neglected to talk about her social life, he didn’t comment on it. It did mean that it didn’t take long for them to run out of benign things to talk about, and Mai could address the komodo-rhino in the room. 

“So,” Mai began, setting her almost empty wine glass on the table. “How are the newlyweds?”

Aang hesitated, examining his own wine glass to avoid looking her in the eye. “They’re fine,” he said cautiously. She waited for him to continue. “It’s weird,” he admitted, craning his neck back so his head was flat on the couch cushion. “They want things to be normal but they are just _so bad at it._ ” Mai couldn’t hold back a quiet laugh at Aang’s exasperation while he tried to describe his day with Zuko and Katara, picking up steam as he went on. He was a good story-teller; Mai had to cover her face with her hands as he described in painful detail how at one point, the married couple had each grabbed one of his hands and insisted that they walk around like that. He pantomimed his panicked expression that he had directed at the guards, none of whom were merciful enough to help him out. Luckily, their walk was confined to the palace; apparently they had been showing him the renovated grounds, which included a new garden and outdoor training arena designed for any style of bending. When they had tried to drag him to the market, he had insisted that he was absolutely starving and that they should take a break for lunch. 

“Meals are the only time that I can breathe, because they forget to act like crazy people,” he finished in an amused tone. He downed the rest of his glass, then groaned. “I’m sorry, I promise I didn’t come over here just to complain about them,” he mumbled, drawing his legs up against him and resting his head on his knees. “It’s not like me.”

“Isn’t it?” Mai countered, tilting her head to give him a knowing look. 

“Well, it’s not supposed to be,” he amended. “I’m supposed to be able to let things like this go. I can’t help anybody if I’m wrapped up in my own petty nonsense. I should be above whining like this.” He spat out the last sentence, still staring at the floor, and so he didn’t see Mai’s expression soften.

“You’re still human,” she said, unfolding her legs from under her to nudge his shoulder with her toe. It wasn’t the best way to comfort someone, but she was a little out of her depth here. “Super Avatar powers or not. And no human is above whining about their annoying ex.” She was pleased to see the corners of his mouth twitch upwards into a grin at that. “I don’t mind, anyway. It drives you crazy, not being able to talk about that stuff.”

Aang sat up straight and twisted his body so his shoulder was pressed against the couch and he could see her fully. “Do you have anyone you can talk to about it?” he asked sincerely. “Ty Lee? Or…” he paused. “Azula?”

Mai’s face fell into its default stony expression, and she stood up abruptly. Aang jumped at the movement, his head following her as she went to fetch the half-empty wine bottle from the kitchen. She brought it over the living room and refilled their glasses, avoiding eye contact. “I haven’t seen Ty Lee in a long time,” she finally spoke in a clipped voice. “She spends most of her time either traveling or on Kyoshi Island. Besides, she’s not great with secrets. Or complaining.” Her gaze flickered to the painting of the two of them that hung on her wall, a fond smile creeping over her face. She was glad that her friend had found happiness in the Kyoshi warriors, in her wife, and in her efforts to maintain peace in the world. But she missed Ty Lee so much that it hurt sometimes.

“And Azula?” Aang pressed gently.

Mai stilled, her hand still wrapped around the wine bottle. “Azula’s been in a nearby mental health clinic,” she finally answered. “Zuko says that she’s doing a lot better. Ty Lee and I have tried to visit a few times, but she won’t see us.” She neglected to mention that once a week for almost a year she had tried to see the dethroned princess, and had been turned away every time. Mai didn’t even know what she wanted to talk to Azula about. Maybe it was to apologize for betraying her, maybe to rage at her about almost killing Zuko and destroying the world, maybe to see if the therapists and medications had silenced the myriad of voices in her head. 

Maybe to ask if she had ever actually cared about Mai, or if she had been using her the whole time.

“I’m sorry,” Aang said sincerely, and Mai believed him. “So…nobody to talk to?”

Mai took a long drink from her wine glass, deliberating on when it had begun to taste so sour. “It’s funny. I was brought to the palace to befriend Azula and Zuko to advance my father’s career, and my own social standing,” she said, in a bitter voice that showed that it wasn’t funny at all. “Instead, they ruined both. My father got demoted and I…” She wavered, unsure if she really wanted to keep going. But Aang was staring at her with those wide eyes, both childlike and ageless, and she found herself continuing. “Well, now everyone sees Azula as a madwoman and a traitor. Many people still associate me with her. And as for Zuko,” she scowled. “Every guy I talk to thinks that the Fire Lord is going to change his mind someday and want me back.” She gave a very unlady-like snort of derision. “As if I’d ever take him back.”

Aang seemed to think about that for a moment. “Well, now that he’s married, maybe you’ll finally get lucky,” he said optimistically. Whether it was the sudden shift in tone or the crass joke, Mai found herself laughing.

“Maybe,” she agreed, holding her glass up to him in a toast. “To getting lucky. Or at least, to not being as pathetic as we are now.” Aang gladly clinked his glass against hers, cheering, “Here here!” The dour mood broken, they passed the rest of the evening chatting about much lighter topics. Mai reminded him about the Air Nomad artifacts in the museum, and the conversation turned to history. He asked her about the ancient map hanging on her living room wall (she had outbid a pretentious noble at an auction who had made a snide comment about her not being able to afford it), and she questioned him about life 100 years ago, before Fire Nation propaganda twisted and mangled the truth. His knowledge usually came in the form of stories, which she found she didn’t mind.

When it was finally time for Aang to leave, Mai reluctantly followed him out onto the balcony. She briefly thought about asking if he wanted to stay the night again, but she dismissed it almost immediately. That was exactly how rumors got started, and she wasn’t in the mood to deal with that kind of gossip. Aang twirled his staff in his hand and tapped one end against the floor, causing the wings of the glider to pop out. She expected him to hug her goodbye, so she was taken aback when he swooped down to kiss her on the cheek. “Goodnight, Mai,” he said softly, and then he was gone. Mai brought one hand to her cheek, fingertips brushing the spot where his lips had been, and watched his shadow soar against the starry night sky until he was out of sight.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This entire chapter is a callout post for bitches that leave every cabinet door open (I'm bitches).


	3. claim a new continent

To Aang’s great relief, both Zuko and Katara mellowed out the more time that passed from their wedding. It didn’t hurt that, as Fire Lord and ambassador to the Southern Water Tribe respectively, they were immediately thrown back into their work once all the guests left and the decorations were put away. Aang had gaped at them, sitting in desks that were pushed together so that they faced each other, and studiously working two days after the wedding. 

“Aren’t you supposed to take a vacation or something after you get married?” he had asked, neatly stepping out of the way of a messenger that had barreled into the room. The newlyweds had looked up at him, blinking owlishly. 

“Are you kidding? It took us four months of organizing to get the past three days off in a row,” Zuko had replied, sifting through the stack of scrolls that the messenger had brought. “Hon, are the negotiations with the new iron works on Whale Tail Island for me or for you?” 

Katara held out her hand without looking up from what she was writing. “That’s mine, thank you dear.” If it weren’t for the pet names, Aang would have thought he was spying on a pair of coworkers in an office. Katara finished what she was writing, set her pen down, and made an effort to stop and look Aang in the eye. “I’m sorry Aang, I promise it won’t be like this the whole time you’re here,” she assured him, reaching out for a blank piece of parchment. “We just need this morning to catch up on a few things. Do you think you can entertain yourself until this evening? We could definitely meet you for dinner.” Aang’s heart ached at the familiar warmth in her eyes and the mothering tone, and it reminded him that above all else, Katara was his best friend.

“Actually, that’s perfect. I was going to go visit Mai at work this morning.” At that, Zuko and Katara looked up simultaneously and exchanged an inscrutable glance. 

“Oh?” Zuko said carefully. 

“You two seem to be getting along,” Katara added in an equally neutral voice.

Aang was beginning to feel a little uneasy with the tonal shift in the room, and he wasn’t really sure where it was coming from. “Yeah, she said the museum had some artifacts from the air temples, I wanted to check them out while I was in the city.” He didn’t know why he felt the need to defend himself, as though he _needed_ a good reason to see Mai. It wasn’t exactly their business, which was why he hadn’t told either of them about his visit to her the previous night.

“That’s amazing, Aang!” Katara exclaimed, a touch too enthusiastic. “Tell Mai we say hi, and we’ll see you tonight for dinner.” Before they could say anything else, another messenger marched in with an armful of papers, and Aang took the opportunity to sneak out of the office. He felt a little guilty about how relieved he was to have some time to himself, but it wasn’t like there was anything he could do to help them. He wasn’t exactly a paperwork guy. He brushed aside both those feelings and the couples’ weird reaction to Mai, and set off for the museum.

The Caldera City Museum was a large, archaic-looking building that Aang could remember from his visits to the Fire Nation over 100 years ago. He had never been inside, and he did a quick lap around the building on his glider to scope it out. It was a beautiful structure, made of pristine marble and covered in vines. He landed in front of the building and clipped his glider to his back, welcoming the cool air that greeted him when he pulled open the door. It led to a small desk, behind which a young woman was reading. She looked up at the sound of the door opening, then did a double take.

“Are you the Avatar?” she asked breathlessly, looking him up and down. Aang grinned and stepped forward, because in between restoring harmony between people and saving the world, he had learned to appreciate the perks that came with being the Avatar.

“I am, but you can call me Aang,” he greeted her warmly, holding out a hand to the woman. Rather than shake the hand that he was given in turn, he bent his head to plant a light kiss on her knuckles. “And you are?”

The girl melted, only reluctantly taking her hand back when he retracted his own. “I’m Rika,” she answered, leaning forward on the counter. She suddenly seemed to remember her job. “Oh, did you want to see the museum? I could see about getting you a private tour.”

While Aang was not _opposed_ to the dangerous gleam in Rika’s eyes, he had come here with a purpose. “I’m actually here to see Mai, is she free?”

Rika’s face fell. “Oh,” she pouted, standing up. “I’ll go let her know you’re here.” She walked away with a decidedly exaggerated sway to her hips, which Aang was more than happy to watch until she disappeared from view. Once he was alone, he circled the room, examining the few pieces of art that were on display in this entrance hall. They were all from the Fire Nation, and all seemed to deliberately be unrelated to the war. He was reading the caption next to a painting depicting one of his past lives when he heard footsteps approaching.

“Aang,” Mai’s voice rang out, sounding oddly formal. Rika brushed past her, bumping Mai’s shoulder with her own to return to her desk. She flashed him one last flirtatious grin, which he returned with a wink, before he had to run to catch up to Mai. “Do you have to do that?” Mai complained when he caught up to her, leading him down a set of stone steps. “She barely does any work as it is.”

“Do what?” Aang asked, feigning ignorance. Mai gave him a _look,_ but apparently didn’t feel like commenting further, because she let it drop. Instead she led Aang to a warehouse underneath the museum. The seismic sense that Toph had trained into him told him that they were well underground, encased in stone. His head was moving back and forth like a pendulum, sweeping across the vast space that was full of artifacts. Many of them were wrapped up or in crates, but he could see flashes of color here and there. When they arrived at their destination, Mai instructed him to stand to the side while she began pulling down boxes. She slapped his hand away when he tried to help her, telling him that if he wanted to be useful he could grab a trolley. There was one at the end of the aisle, and Mai begrudgingly let him help stack the boxes onto it. She did one final check of all the labels (a string of numbers and letters that meant absolutely nothing to Aang) before she was satisfied that they had everything and could take them to her office.

Mai’s office was a small space connected to the warehouse, as neatly organized as her apartment. She cleared a few other relics she had been working on from a table and began unpacking the boxes, this time letting Aang help. “I could have had all this set up already, if you had given me a warning that you were coming,” she berated him, but there was a teasing note in her voice that told Aang that she wasn’t still upset with him.

“A little spontaneity is good for you,” Aang argued, carefully unwrapping a large stone slab from its protective layer of paper and cloth. He gasped when the full picture was exposed: it was a mosaic, from the walls of one of the air temples. It had clearly been taken a long time ago; the artwork still at the temples was worn and faded from their century of neglect. This one shone so brightly it made everything else in the office look dim, a beautiful landscape featuring the sky bison and airbenders working in tandem. Aang ran one hand lightly across the surface, feeling tears spring unbidden to his eyes. He reverently placed the stone on the table to help Mai finish unpacking everything.

In the end, there were five pieces of art, a combination of mosaics from the walls and oil paintings. There was a small bison carving that Aang recognized as a children’s toy, and a ceremonial robe worn by the nuns when a new airbending master was confirmed. He held each piece in his hands, running his fingers across them, noting the smoothed edges and occasional scorch marks. Mai respectfully stood behind him, telling him all the information they had on each piece and asking him questions. She was jotting down his answers in a small notebook, but mostly was just letting him look and talk. He couldn’t help but close his eyes as he ran the orange silk of the robe through his hands, remembering the woman who had held his hand when he had been getting his tattoos. He couldn’t recall her name, but she had had dark brown hair streaked with gray, and wrinkled hands that looked fragile but were strong enough for him to cling to for hours.

Swallowing past the lump in his throat, Aang moved on to the three necklaces that were all that remained of the museum’s collection of Air Nomad relics. The first two were recognizable as the kind worn by the adult monks, that matched the one that Aang himself was wearing. He hesitated to pick up the last one, his brow furrowed. Rather than simple wooden beads, the chain was made out of colorful clay beads, alternating in orange, yellow, and blue. The tufts of bison fur that adorned the other necklaces were replaced with glossy, iridescent feathers. Even the pendant with the air symbol etched on it was strange; it had the texture of wood, but felt like stone. He picked up the necklace, examining it, wracking his memory for any hint of what it could be.

“Yeah, that one is strange, none of us have been able to get much out of it,” Mai’s voice drifted in, and Aang was alarmed to find that he could hear very little over the pounding of his heartbeat. “The pendant is made of petrified wood, but none of us know where it came from, or what animal the feathers are from.” 

“Which temple?” Aang found himself asking. His ears felt like they were stuffed with cotton. 

“The Eastern Air Temple.” Mai finally seemed to notice that something was off, and she set down her notebook and pen. “Are you okay?”

“I don’t know,” he whispered. A drop of water fell onto the pendant and he realized he was crying. “I don’t know what it is.” The enormity of his ignorance began to sink in, and he began to sway on his feet. Dimly, he was aware of Mai taking the necklace out of his hands and guiding him into a chair. She hovered uncomfortably at the edge of his vision, then he felt her hand grip his shoulder, grounding him. With a pop, his ears cleared and the world returned to him.

Mai was standing in front of him, one hand clasping his chin, moving his head from side to side to look into his eyes. She looked panicked, and she was practically yelling. “Aang! Are you okay? Aang, I swear on Agni, if you die here I will kill you myself.” Aang blinked a few times, his vision clearing a bit more each time. His gaze focused on Mai, who dropped her hand from his face like it burned her. 

“What happened?” he asked in a hoarse voice. 

“Your tattoos started glowing, and you almost collapsed,” Mai answered, still sounding worried. “I’m going to get you some water, can you stay upright for a minute?” Aang nodded, and she disappeared, flying out the door. He groaned and rubbed his head, his gaze drawn to the unusual necklace.

Aang often felt burdened by the knowledge that he was the sole descendant of the Air Nomads, the last airbender. If he had known that was to be his fate, he would have spent his years with them learning everything he could about their culture, their history, their traditions, so he could pass it on in this strange new world. But he hadn’t been an encyclopedia, he had been a carefree child, focused more on planning pranks and inventing games. This necklace could have been a single experiment of a bored jewelry maker, or it could have held great cultural significance for the temple. That knowledge was lost forever. 

Mai returned, somewhat more composed, with a glass of water. He accepted it gratefully, draining it in a single gulp. “Thank you. And I’m sorry I scared you.”

“Are you kidding? _I’m_ sorry, I should have known better, of course all of this would upset you,” Mai fretted, wringing her hands together in a way that seemed more like they were looking for a knife than out of grief.

Aang frowned at that, then reached out to take one of her hands. “Hey,” he said gently. “This wasn’t your fault. There are a lot of things I still have to learn about being the Avatar. It…my heart aches, thinking about my people, and to be reminded that so much of them has been lost forever. But,” he paused, squeezing her hand until she looked at him before continuing. “I’m glad to see these traces of them, here. It means they aren’t gone forever. Even this…” with his free hand he picked up the strange necklace, the feathers glimmering in the lamplight. “I’m devasted that we’ll probably never know what this is for. I would be even more so if I had never known about in the first place.”

Mai regarded him carefully, still not looking convinced. She seemed to notice that they were still holding hands, and quickly dropped it. When she finally spoke, she sounded decisive. “Keep it.” 

Aang froze. “Excuse me?”

“Keep it,” she repeated herself. “Take all of it, if you want,” she gestured to the table covered in relics.

The curveballs that Mai threw at him still always managed to take him by surprise. “Don’t you need them here? Aren’t people studying them?”

Mai shrugged. “The scholars here have wrung every bit of information they possibly can from them. We’re essentially just storing them here forever. Anyway, they’re not ours. Someone stole them from the temples a hundred years ago.”

Aang was still staring in disbelief, amazed that Mai could be so calm and collected about him stealing from her work. “Wouldn’t you get in trouble?”

She looked away. “No,” she lied unconvincingly. Catching his skeptical look, she groaned. “Whatever, if I hid the crates in the back, nobody would notice for ages.”

Aang really did consider it, for a minute. He ran his thumb over the bizarre pendant, admiring how the swirls of the air insignia integrated with the natural whorls in the fossilized wood. He looked over the rest of the artifacts, thinking about how nice it felt to hold on to pieces of his heritage, the reminder that there had once been more than just him.

“I can’t,” he finally said, setting the necklace down on the table. “I don’t need more things to weigh me down.” He cracked a lopsided smile at Mai. “Besides, you guys seem to be doing a pretty good job taking care of them for me.”

Mai pursed her lips in a thin line, but didn’t argue. She accepted his help packing the artifacts back up, and returning them to the warehouse. On the way back to her office, he got an idea.

“Sooooo…” he began. “When do you get to take a break around here?”

Her eyes narrowed, intrigued. “Why?”

“Well, at the wedding you wanted to go for a ride on Appa, right?”

“I recall.” 

“And I said no, because I had been drinking.”

“A wise decision.”

“But I’m not drunk now.”

“I would hope not, it’s not even noon.”

“So if you can take a break now, I think I could convince him to take us flying.”

“Hmm.”

“Or I guess I could leave you here and go by myself, but that’s not as much fun.”

“Quite a dilemma.”

“Mai.”

“Hold on, I’m thinking.”

“ _Mai!_ ”

“Well, if you insist. I guess I could take a break.”

* * *

Rika had spent most of her shift planning her date with the Avatar. She had even written down her address on a piece of paper, so she could coyly slide it to him and tell him to pick her up at eight. They would go to a nice restaurant, then a bar for dancing, then hopefully back to her place…

The Avatar breezed right by her desk without looking at her, chatting eagerly with that gloomy cataloguer, Mai. Rika sighed and crumpled the paper into a ball, sweeping it into the trash can under her desk. _First the Fire Lord, now the Avatar,_ she thought sourly, turning her attention to her work for the first time that day. _Unbelievable!_

* * *

Mai didn’t think it unreasonable to be a little wary about meeting the Avatar’s enormous bison. She had seen first hand the kind of carnage it could cause. It also wasn’t difficult to see that the creature was sentient, not simply a beast of burden that carted people around on its back. She had heard from Zuko enough times how the bison’s acceptance of him was the first step in Aang trusting him during the war. Still, Mai was adamant that she would absolutely not be offended if the bison didn’t like her.

Aang obviously didn’t share any of her anxiety, bounding the last few yards towards the bison in large steps assisted by airbending. Appa was sunning himself, half rolled onto his back, snoring loudly. At the sound of Aang’s approach, the bison righted himself and lumbered to his feet, taking a few steps forward to meet the airbender halfway. Mai hung back, noting how Aang’s entire being seemed to light up in the presence of the creature. She thought that, after the incident at the museum, this ride might be as much for him as it was for her.

“Alright Appa, say hi to Mai!” The bison’s enormous head lowered, appraising her with an intelligent spark in his eyes that made her feel like she was actually under scrutiny. “And no licking,” Aang continued sternly. “Mai looks too pretty today to get covered in drool.” Mai shot him a glance, but Aang wasn’t looking at her at all, too busy rubbing the bison behind one ear. Remembering his casual flirtation with Rika, Mai sternly reminded herself not to take him too seriously. She focused her attention on the more pressing task at hand, which was not being rejected by a ten ton fluff monster. She took a step forward, hesitantly holding out her hand for the bison to inspect. He continued to examine her with that alien gaze, before pushing his nose into her palm. She jumped, pulling her hand back sharply at the sudden contact, but the bison continued to placidly watch her. Encouraged, she reached out her hand again to pet Appa’s nose. He nudged against her hand, moving it up to the fur in between his eyes. She couldn’t help but smile, marveling at how soft and luxurious his fur was. The beast closed his eyes, seemingly content. 

“He likes you,” Aang declared. He had busied himself grabbing the reins from the nearby stable, and smoothly leapt from the ground to Appa’s head. “I hope you don’t mind just sitting on his head. It’s not worth it to get his whole saddle on for two people,” Aang talked while he worked, tying the reins to the bison’s horns with the ease of someone who has performed a task a thousand times. Mai continued with her assignment of befriending the bison, which seemed to be going well. Appa had leaned his head towards her, and she could feel her clothes billow with each breath that he took as he sniffed her. Relieved to have passed whatever metric the bison used to judge people, she allowed him to assess her, which seemed to consist of him pushing his nose into her clothes and trying to get in her pockets.

“Ready! Hey, stop that,” Aang chided the bison, finally noticing his inspection of Mai. “Begging for food, you’re going to make her think I don’t feed you.” Appa grumbled at that, in a way that sounded so belligerent and contrary that Mai had to laugh. Aang beamed at her, then held out a hand to help her onto Appa’s head. Mai accepted the help, and the next thing she knew she was being yanked up next to him, without having to boost herself up at all. He continued holding onto her hand while she settled down on the bison’s fluffy head, though Mai was astounded by how stable and comfortable it actually was. She was still nervous, but reminded herself that this had been her idea in the first place. 

“Hold on,” was all the warning she got before Aang wrapped the reins around his knuckles and shouted _“Yip yip!”_ Mai had half a second to grab the airbender’s arm because with a single mighty leap, the bison was airborne. Her stomach flew up into her throat as she looked down, watching the palace and the rest of the city rapidly shrink beneath them. Riding on the sky bison was an entirely different experience from the air balloons, which Mai had flown in dozens of times. The balloons were slow and ponderous, and you were encased in silent metal the whole time. They were mechanical, steadily churning their way through the air in a way that felt more like riding on land than flying. On Appa, the rushing wind was deafening, tearing the hair from her face and rippling through her clothes. She could feel the bison breathe and move through the air, slipping between air currents like a fish traveling down a river. It felt _alive,_ and Mai finally understood why Aang spent so much of his time flying. If she could, she would never set foot on the ground again. 

Appa slowed his ascent when the entire caldera was the size of a dinner plate, the roar of the wind quietening down to a whisper. Aang cleared his throat, then nodded towards his arm when she looked at him. She followed the nod and realized that she was still clutching his arm in a death grip. Embarrassed, she let go, mumbling, “Oh, sorry.”

“You’re good, you can keep holding on if you want, just not so tight,” he said breezily. “There’s also a handle over there,” he gestured towards the horn nearest Mai, and she belatedly realized there was a thick loop of rope attached to it. Mai hesitated, then wove her hand through the handle, gripping it close to where it was tied onto the horn. From here, she had a closer view of the ground, and she couldn’t help but lean out over the side to take it all in. They passed by a flock of birds, who gracefully veered away from Appa’s enormous form as he flew by. The edge of the flock didn’t turn soon enough, and for a moment Mai was surrounded by wings. The birds swarmed by her, not a single one getting close enough to touch her. Mai gasped, transfixed as the spectacle hastened past her and disappeared in the distance.

“What do you think?” Aang laughed. He reached one hand towards her, like he was going to tuck her hair behind her ears, and Mai instinctively jerked back. Aang raised an eyebrow, then plucked out a feather that had gotten stuck in her hair. He offered it to her and, though she was not one to collect trinkets, she accepted it, tucking it into her sleeve. Later, when he dropped her off at the museum, she would pull the feather out and smile, placing it decisively on her desk.

“It’s amazing,” Mai answered honestly. Her usual cynicism felt out of place here, soaring through the sky more free than she had ever been. 

Aang looked pleased. “Amazing! Do you want to fly Appa?” Mai didn’t quite understand at first (weren’t they already flying on Appa?), but Aang held the reins out to her and it clicked.

“Can I?” she asked, doubtful. From what she had seen, it didn’t seem like Aang did the steering via the reins. Rather, the two had some kind of connection, and the bison just seemed to know where Aang wanted him to fly. That didn’t seem like something that could be transferred to another person.

“Of course! There’s nothing to hit up here, and Appa knows not to plummet to the earth with people on his back,” Aang replied cheerfully. While that didn’t reassure her, she wasn’t one to back down from a challenge. She accepted the reins from Aang and immediately felt the bison rumble underneath them, as though he knew someone else was trying to steer. Mai was not an “animal” person, so she was shocked by how badly she wanted this creature to like her. She listened carefully as Aang instructed her on how to use the reins, then the next thing she knew his hands were folded in his lap and she was in charge. She experimentally tugged on the left rein, and felt a wave of relief as the bison instantly turned to the left. 

After a few minutes of lazily soaring in zig zags across the sky, Mai voiced an idea she had. “Can we go up any higher?”

Aang, who had been laying back and watching her from under hooded eyes, sat upright. “Yeah, we can.” He tilted his head, a playful dare sparkling across his expression. “I’m game if you are.” Mai responded by tugging on the reins, signaling Appa to start climbing higher and higher in the air. He caught on pretty quickly and began moving in a spiral, inching upward on every swirl. The geography of the Fire Nation spread out below them; Mai could see vast swaths of forests interspersed with volcanoes, both dormant and active. Though it got brighter as they rose, the air temperature dropped, and before long Mai was shivering. Undeterred, she urged Appa upward, towards the sun.

“That’s enough,” Aang finally said, stopping her. Mai considered arguing with him, but he gave her a look. “I can keep the air breathable and warm enough here for a while, but if we keep going up all three of us are going to pass out.” Mai couldn’t deny that she was freezing, nor that each breath that she took felt empty, devoid of oxygen. Aang moved his arms in a familiar circling motion, and fresh air settled around them like a warm blanket. Reluctantly, she signaled for Appa to halt. The bison obeyed, hovering miles above the earth. Now that they had stopped, Mai could fully appreciate the view. Fearlessly, she scooted herself next to Appa’s horn, then held onto it with one hand while she leaned out over his head. It was freeing, she realized, to see the world from this perspective. The Fire Nation capitol, which had dominated her every thought and action for 26 years, was invisible from up here. She began to grasp how big the world was, and how little of it she had actually seen. With a jolt, she realized that she hadn’t left Caldera City in two years. It was a shame, she thought, slowly hauling herself to her feet so she could see more. The world was a beautiful place.

Turning back, Mai caught Aang staring at her, an odd, almost wistful smile on his face. “Why are you smiling at me like that?” she asked defensively. It didn’t quite seem like he was laughing at her, but she couldn’t think of any other reason he’d be looking at her like that. 

To her surprise, he turned bright red at the question, and quickly looked away. “It’s nothing. Most people don’t like to fly this high. They get scared they’ll fall.” He was deflecting, trying to change the subject. Mai let him.

“I like it,” she answered simply. “I forget that there’s more to the world than the capitol. You can’t even see the city from up here. And,” she added with a droll smirk. “I won’t fall.”

There was quiet for a minute. “Oh, you can see Mount Nantai from here,” Aang pointed to an enormous shield volcano, its black ashen surface half-covered in green vegetation. “There’s a village on the northern side, they collect this amazing blue obsidian from the volcano and use it for all of their weapons and jewelry. Have you been there? It’s not far from the capitol.”

“Is it not far when you don’t have a flying bison?”

Aang chuckled. “Okay, it’s maybe a week by foot.”

Mai’s mouth quirked at his correction. “Hmm. Sounds far.” She lowered herself back down so she was sitting on Appa’s head, one arm still protectively curled around his horn. “And no, I haven’t been there. I don’t really travel anymore.”

“Why not?” Aang sounded astonished, like the thought of staying in one place never crossed his mind. Which, she supposed, it probably hadn’t.

Mai shrugged. “Work. Life. It’s easy to get caught up in the nonsense of the city.” She didn’t feel like elaborating further, and thankfully Aang didn’t press her. He regarded her thoughtfully before saying, “We should get going. Do you want to fly us back?” She accepted the proffered reins, shifting back down on Appa’s head until she was next to the airbender. It was purely because of the bitterly cold air temperature that she moved close enough that their arms pressed together, allowing her to soak up some of his heat. Benders always seemed to run hot, irrespective of their element, she had found. Aang caught her eye and grinned, moving his arms so he could lean back on them, his right arm now braced behind Mai so she was tucked against his side.

“Ready when you are!” Without another word, Mai flicked the reins and Appa began to slowly descend. When they were close enough to start seeing people again, Aang indicated for her to hand the reins over, and he finished guiding them back down to land. To her surprise, he didn’t direct them to the palace, but rather dropped her off right in front of the museum. Mai slid off of Appa’s head and landed nimbly on the ground, then moved to pet him on the nose as a goodbye. The bison closed his eyes and made a noise that sounded like he was happy, which Mai counted as an absolute win.

Aang had also jumped to the ground and they were now standing and facing each other, awkwardly silent. Mai spoke first. “I should get back to work.”

“Ah. Right.” In a rare turn of events, Aang seemed at a loss for words. 

“Thank you though,” Mai added in a rush. “That was…” she trailed off, trying to think of a word that captured how magical it had been to fly, and failing miserably. “Amazing,” she finally got out, resorting to her earlier adjective.

Aang seemed pleased with that. “You’re welcome, I’m glad to hear that,” he said warmly. “And thank you too, for…” he gestured back towards the museum, indicating their tumultuous morning. “All of that. Letting me visit.” He caught her incredulous look and laughed. “Really! I won’t lie, it still hurts to see those things as…remnants. But it means a lot that you have them, and are keeping them safe.” He leveled his gaze at her, intense gray eyes as dark and turbulent as storm clouds. “I mean it, thank you.”

Before Mai could say anything, he wrapped one arm around her in a quick hug, before bounding back onto the bison’s head. He looked over his shoulder down at her, a contemplative expression on his face. Mai raised one hand to wave goodbye and he returned the gesture, then the bison took off and Mai was alone. She remained outside for a second longer, then shook her head and returned to work.

* * *

Aang had a crush on Mai, and he wasn’t sure what to do about it.

He was laying on his back in one of the palace gardens, staring up at the orange sky that was slowly fading to black. He had a little time before he was supposed to meet Katara and Zuko for dinner, which meant that he had time to think, which meant that his thoughts turned to Mai.

His two day trip to the Fire Nation had already gone on a week, and he didn’t see himself leaving anytime soon. Katara and Zuko didn’t ask him again about his plans; they seemed happy enough that he was lingering as long as he was. Spending time with them was getting easier, although they still found ways to be unbearably awkward. Now, Aang found himself to be less bitter about it and more amused. Once they had caught up with the work they had gotten behind on during the wedding, both of them managed to find time to hang out with him. In the morning, he meditated with Zuko. Katara accompanied him to the market, pointing out the trickle of Earth Kingdom and Water Tribe vendors that had made their way there. Later on in the day, they would spar; sometimes just one of them against Aang, sometimes both. They made sure to meet him for dinner every evening. Even when they weren’t available, Aang found ways to keep busy. Once word got out that the Avatar was in the Fire Nation capitol, requests began to trickle in from the surrounding areas from people that needed help. Aang had a hard time saying no, and would fly out to assist whenever he could. The tasks ranged from settling disputes between neighboring villages to redirecting a branch of a river for a nearby farm. It made Aang feel good to bring immediate aid to people that needed it, and reminded him that being the Avatar was an excellent job.

And every day, he saw Mai.

If he could sneak away in the afternoon, he would stop by the museum and take her out for lunch. If she was busy, he would hang around until she explained what she was working on, so intently focused on the artifact that she didn’t notice him staring at her. After dinner he would visit again, this time at her apartment. He always came in through the balcony, not wanting to deal with the moody doorman in the lobby. He never had any excuse to come see her, and thankfully she didn’t ask for one. They would sit and talk, glasses of wine in their hands, and Aang would wonder how a woman who tried to show no expression could be so vibrant and interesting. Mai was smart, and loved to argue. If she thought Aang was wrong about something, she would disappear into her room and return with a book or scroll that proved her point. She was funny, in a way that even she didn’t seem to realize. But she would make a wry comment in that deadpan tone of hers that would make Aang absolutely lose it, and she would look surprised to see him laughing. When Aang could convince her to, she would bring out some targets and they would practice throwing knives. Mai was a good teacher, but Aang mostly did it for the moments that she got to show off. Lightning fast and equally precise, she tossed the knives in a way that looked effortless, each knife finding its mark every time. It was terrifying and exhilarating, prickling under his skin like lightning.

Aang was extremely aware that he fell for people very, very quickly. In almost every village he traveled to, there was some young lady or gentleman that would catch his eye, and he would be gone. Most of the time it was fun; he loved to flirt, stealing kisses and sweeping people off their feet, both secure in the knowledge that he would disappear soon. Being friends with Mai almost made it harder, because he didn’t _want_ to just disappear on her. It didn’t help that he was having a difficult time reading her and figuring out how she felt about him. She seemed to like spending time with him, and certainly didn’t complain when he popped by. But she definitely had her guard up, and Aang got the feeling that she thought he was playing a game. He was aware of the political dance that Fire Nation nobility thrived off of. It was a lot of passive-aggressive double talk, meant to seek out vulnerability without exposing yourself to the same. Aang despised those kinds of games, but he suspected that Mai was all too familiar with them.

Aang sat up, the first few stars of the evening dotting the indigo sky, and concluded that he would do nothing. He could continue to be friends with Mai without complicating things, and soon he would move on. Satisfied at having made a decision, he headed back into the palace, aiming for Zuko’s private dining room.

Though he hadn’t been running late, Aang was startled to find Zuko and Katara already seated at the table, their heads huddled together as they argued furtively. They stopped when he walked in the door, giving Aang the feeling of being a child walking in on his parents. “What’s going on?” he asked without preamble, slowly pulling his chair out and lowering himself into it.

The couple across from him exchanged a look. “We’ve been keeping tabs on a faction of criminals that aren’t happy with me,” Zuko began to explain. “It’s not that uncommon, people want a return to the glory days, they think my father was unjustly dethroned, et cetera.” Aang was amazed and a little proud at how calmly Zuko was able to talk about the dissenters in the Fire Nation. At the beginning of his reign, he had taken every insult personally, especially when people suggested that his father or sister deserved to be on the throne. 

“Normally we can ignore it, it’s usually just poorly organized grumbling,” Katara took over, one hand folded over Zuko’s on the table. “But recently, one group has started unifying in a concerning way. We think they might be trouble. We got word today that they’re having a meeting in a warehouse on the edge of the city. We’re deciding whether or not to send someone to check it out.”

“I’ll go,” Aang said instantly. He held up a hand to cut off the inevitable protests. “I mean it, I’m here to help.”

Zuko’s brow furrowed with worry. “This is serious, Aang. We don’t know anything about this group. It’ll be dangerous.”

Aang waved a hand dismissively in the air. “Please, ‘danger’ is my middle name!” His smile faded as his friends glared at him. “Come on guys, you know I can handle it. Who do you trust to do this more than me?”

That seemed to settle it. Katara huffed a heavy breath, but still gave him a tired smile. “Thank you, Aang. You can go after dinner.” She got up to talk to the guard standing just outside the door, so that he could inform the kitchen staff that they were ready to eat. Zuko looked grateful, but still worried.

“You really shouldn’t go alone,” he reasoned. “At least let us find someone to go with you.”

Aang thought about that, then his face lit up. “I know exactly who to ask.”

* * *

It was a little earlier than Aang was used to showing up at Mai’s apartment. He had eaten quickly, eager to be on his way. Despite the danger, there was nothing like an exciting spy mission to get the blood going. He alighted on her balcony, folding his glider into a staff and propping it against the wall. Her window was open, which was unusual, but he figured that she was expecting him and wanted him to let himself in. He obliged, poking his head through the opening. “Hey, are—”

He was cut off by a sharp whistle, then suddenly he couldn’t breathe. He gasped for air, trying to figure out what had just happened. His eyes flickered downward and he realized that two knives had pinned his shirt collar to the windowsill, pulling it tight against his throat and choking him. He looked up to see Mai staring at him, not appearing apologetic in the slightest. 

“You should probably start using the door,” she began conversationally, striding over to him. “Why are you wearing all black anyway?” She stopped in front of him to pull the knives out of the wood, close enough that he could feel her breath on his face. 

He refrained from answering until she had freed him and taken a step back. “I’ve got a mission tonight,” he said, rubbing at his neck. “Want to come spy on a criminal ring of conspirators?”

Mai stared at him, then shrugged. “Sounds not boring. I’m in.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Guess whomst is a wordy bitch that can NOT edit? (it's me)


	4. buy back the secrets

“Zuko said they’re calling themselves the Phoenix Authority, but he doesn’t know much more beyond that,” Aang briefed Mai as she prepared for the mission, tucking an ungodly amount of knives, arrows, and shuriken into her clothing. 

“Of course they are,” Mai rolled her eyes. At Aang’s questioning look, she sighed. “All of these insurgent groups name themselves after phoenixes. Something about being reborn from the ashes, plus Ozai’s Phoenix King thing. There’s been the Phoenix Rebellion, the Red Phoenix, the Phoenix Alliance…” she ticked off the names of the variances agencies that had revolted against her ex-boyfriend on her fingers. “There was the Phoenix Uprising, and then a year later the Rising Phoenix, which was incredibly lazy, if you ask me.”

“How do you remember all of that?” Aang instantly regretted the question. Mai only responded with a scathing glance before she returned to her preparations. Most of those revolts were in the first few years of Zuko’s reign, when Mai would have been at his side. Aang wondered if he should have asked someone else, if this would be too personal for Mai. But the woman hadn’t faltered since Aang had brought up the mission, and he had a feeling that he’d get a knife in the leg if he tried to stop her from going now.

Aang’s resolve not to talk until she was ready to go was broken quickly, when Mai pulled out yet another box from her cabinet and began strapping a mechanism to her arm and loading it with small arrows. She did the same with one that wrapped around her ankle. “Are you sure all of that is really necessary? They shouldn’t even know we’re there, the plan is just to gather intel.”

“And I suppose things always go according to plan for you,” Mai said in her usual deadpan, not looking up or slowing down. Aang pouted at that, but she did have a good point. Anyway, it was an argument that Aang was positive that he couldn’t win, so he dropped it. 

Finally, Mai was ready, nothing in her figure giving away the fact that she was armed to the teeth. Aang considered his glider for a moment, then shook his head and left it behind. He was loathe to do so, but he was trying to go incognito, and the staff was a dead giveaway that he was the Avatar. Besides, he wasn’t too familiar with the area they would be spying in, and having the glider was a hindrance when trying to sneak through small spaces. He pulled his hood up over his head to hide his arrow and trailed after Mai out the front door. Without a word, Mai began to run, blending seamlessly into the shadows. Aang blinked once at her disappearance, then followed suit.

* * *

The little information that Zuko had led them a district of warehouses, exactly where one would expect a group of criminals to meet. They hadn’t known the exact building that the meeting would be in, but Aang suspected it was the one with four guards stationed around every door. Signaling to Mai, he jumped up onto the roof of a building a block away from their target. He glanced down to see if Mai needed help, only to find that she was already at his side and on the move again. The two loped across the rooftops, easily making the jumps between buildings. Before long, they were only one building over. There was no indication from the guards that they had been seen.

Aang scanned the building and was pleased to see a small window near the ceiling. He pointed it out to Mai and she nodded in assent. They made the final leap onto the target building, Aang’s heart thudding in his throat. They were in view of the guards for the split second that they were in the air; it would only take one of them looking up to blow their cover. Thankfully, nobody called out an alarm or began shooting fire at them, so he figured they were in the clear. 

The target window was on the top floor, with a ledge just a few inches wide that they were able to perch on. Aang experimentally pushed on it and was disappointed to find that it was locked. He looked over to Mai, who gestured for him to move out of the way. She took her place at the window and removed one of her many knives from her sleeve. In one smooth motion, she ran the knife against the seam where the window met the wall, cutting neatly through the lock without making a sound. Impressed, and his heart pounding for an entirely different reason now, Aang followed Mai through the window, catching it on his hand and slowly lowering it so it wouldn’t slam.

They were on what should have been an attic, but the floors had rotted away so that only the supporting structures remained, criss-crossing above the warehouse floor. They crept forward until they could fully see what was taking place below. In the midst of hundreds of crates and shipping containers, a large space had been cleared out on the floor. In that space was a table around which a dozen men and women sat, already deep in discussion. At the head of the table, a man sat silently watching the conversation. Aang could immediately tell that this man was in charge of the group; he had an air of confidence and power about him that seemed to both attract and repel the attention of the attendants. People would turn to address him, leaning in towards him, but they were nervous every time they did so. The man’s appearance wasn’t terribly unique. He was handsome and well-dressed, but otherwise couldn’t be distinguished from every Fire Nation noble Aang had ever met. 

The woman standing behind the man was a lot more distinctive, and just as intimidating. She was tall and broad-shouldered, made even broader by the heavy armor she wore. There was a bow and quiver clipped to her back, and a collection of large knives to rival Mai’s adorning the rest of her body. Her eyes were sharp and intense, constantly moving around the room. Most worrisome was the red tattoo splayed across those eyes, marking her as a Yuyan archer. Aang assumed that she was no longer affiliated with the Yuyan archers, who now served Zuko. But he had no doubt that she was still just as quick and deadly as her brethren. 

The actual voices of the group below them were drowned out in the empty space of the warehouse, so Aang and Mai had to move closer. They laid down on one of the remaining struts that crossed the warehouse ceiling and inched forward, until they were almost directly above the table. From here, Aang could begin to catch some of what they were saying.

“…it’s pathetic. The Earth Kingdom is bound to be working on their own invasion, now that they see how weak the Fire Nation has become,” one of the men sitting around the table was arguing. “Zuko has given away too much out of his misplaced guilt, he’d sell the crown itself before fighting for our nation.”

There was a murmur of agreement. “Especially now that he’s married that Water Tribe whore,” another man sneered. “Might as well hand the palace over to those savages now.”

Aang’s hands clenched into fists and he curled his lip in rage. Mai shot him a warning glance.

“There is no Fire Nation anymore,” a woman at the table sneered haughtily. “Between the Water Tribe bitch, the Beifong girl, and the Avatar, every nation has their greedy fingers in the government. Ozai never would have let this happen.”

“Don’t even start on the Avatar,” the first man groaned.

“He’s in the city now, doing Agni knows what,” someone else said scathingly. Up in the rafters, Aang hunched his shoulders down guiltily.

“Daichi, what are you going to do about this?” one of them demanded, directing his attention to the man at the head of the table. Mai stiffened beside Aang, but when he turned to give her a curious look she shook her head sharply. _Later,_ she mouthed.

The leader, Daichi, didn’t speak for a moment. The rest of the group had fallen silent at the direct challenge. Though the man was now languidly leaning back in his seat, the tension in the room was palpable. 

“Do you think,” he drawled. “That I’ve spent the past decade planning this for _nothing?_ ”

A decade? Aang was growing more and more uneasy, aware that this rebellion was more than a gaggle of poorly organized hot heads grumbling about Zuko’s leadership. If this man had been in the plotting stages for the past ten years, they were in trouble.

The man who had questioned Daichi paled. “No sir, it’s not that,” he stuttered. “I—we, just don’t understand what the delay is. We have members of the Phoenix Authority deployed all across the city. We’re ready _now._ ”

Aang could see Daichi’s calm expression tighten into a scowl. Flames licked along the edge of his chair, just enough to be threatening but not enough to set it alight. “If you’re not happy with my leadership, you are more than welcome to challenge me for it,” he said cordially. “I am always open to constructive criticism.”

The man turned from white to a sickly shade of green, and sank back into his seat. Daichi smirked. “That’s what I thought. Now, Eito, have you—"

The conversation was interrupted by the Yuyan archer, who placed a hand on Daichi’s shoulder. He turned his head towards her, frowning solemnly as she whispered something into his ear. She pulled away and resumed her previous stance, hands clasped firmly behind her back and shoulders square.

“We’re going to have to call it an early night, ladies and gentlemen,” Daichi said nonchalantly, slowly rising to his feet. “Aiya has just informed me that we have a few rats spying in the rafters.” Aang’s eyes widened, and he had only a second to process that before the archer pulled the bow off her back and began loosing arrows up at them. 

“Time to go,” Mai muttered way too calmly, grabbing his hand and pulling him to his feet. The second they stood up, the arrows began aiming for their heads and bodies, and they had to slam back down to the rafter. The men and women meeting below were shouting in confusion, but one of them seemed to gather himself enough to shoot a jet of fire up at them. Aang was able to deflect it, but more firebenders began to join in and soon they were surrounded by flames. The already rotting wood beneath their feet began to creak and pop with heat. Mai was already crouched, prepared to jump down, throwing knives down into the crowd below while they still had the high ground. Aang shot one last forlorn look at the smoke-filled window they would never be able to reach now, before jumping down to the floor. Mai followed closely behind.

On the ground, Aang was struck by a wave of heat and was engulfed in flame. Most of the group appeared to be firebenders, but quite a few of them were wielding weapons with deadly intent. He was immediately put on the defensive, bringing up a wall of fire to protect him and Mai from the blasts. He extinguished the next few shots with a gust of wind, eliciting another cry of surprise from the others. Somebody yelled "It’s the Avatar!” and a few people paused, but not enough to give him an actual respite. Aang reached down through the thin metal floor of the warehouse and brought up a wave of earth that rolled through the dissenters, knocking them off balance. Sweat shone on his brow as he worked to capture as many hands and feet in earth as he could, while still turning back all the fireballs that were launched at him. It had been a while since he had fought so many people at once, and he was loathe to make any killing blows. His enemies did not share his reluctance. He hissed in pain as a fireblast licked against his forearm, burning the cloth and the skin beneath it. He put out the fire on his sleeve and knocked the attacker out with a spear of earth. His foot slid on the ground, and he looked down to see he was leaving bloody footprints behind. Somebody had thrown a dagger that he had missed, and it had left a shallow cut on his thigh that was now dripping blood down his leg.

Belatedly, he remembered Aiya and the boss, Daichi. He looked over just in time to see Daichi being hustled out of the warehouse by two guards, and that Mai was busy dealing with the Yuyan archer. Every arrow that the archer released was knocked out of the way midair by one of Mai’s knives, and Aang could see several of Mai’s arrows lodged in the archer’s armor. Aiya was trying to press forward, but Mai was able to keep her at bay, aiming for her exposed face or hands whenever she tried to move. Looking around, Aang could see that several others had their arms and legs pinned to their chairs or to the table. 

Satisfied that Mai was handling herself just fine, Aang could turn his full attention back to his own battle. With their cover blown and the two of them outnumbered, his only goal now was to get them out of here alive. The window they had come in through was no longer an option; the rafters were falling apart and the windowsill itself was still on fire. That only left the front door; the guards posted there had joined in the fight, and it was unprotected. Decision made, he turned back towards Mai, only to narrowly dodge an arrow that she had missed. Some of the people that Mai had pinned down had freed themselves, and she had her attention split between their attacks and Aiya’s arrows. One of the women Mai had pinned down wrenched her arm free and shot a jet of fire towards Mai. Mai ducked and turned to respond, which was apparently what Aiya had been waiting for. The second Mai’s attention was off her, the archer loosed an arrow that lodged into Mai’s left shoulder. To her credit, Mai didn’t cry out, but Aang did.

“Enough,” he growled, summoning the power of his past lives. His vision went white, and when it returned he felt strong, the energy vibrating through his skin. He was no longer aware of his injuries, only the desire to get out of here alive. He threw out one arm and a wave of fire, hotter and brighter and any he had previously made swept out. Not even the most talented firebenders were able to disperse it, and their only choices were to get out of the way or burn alive. He turned his attention to the people Mai was fighting. Everyone still trapped to the table had frozen in fear, painfully aware that they would have no way to defend themselves if the Avatar turned his attacks on them. Aiya was the only one who didn’t react. Aang almost had to admire how she coldly stared him down, one arm arched over her head to draw another in her seemingly endless supply of arrows.

Before she could load her bow, Aang slammed his arms together and twisted, sending a cyclone of air that hit her hard enough to slam her into the opposing wall. Pausing only long enough to grab Mai by her uninjured arm, Aang brought up a surge of earth that tore through the metal floor like paper. They rode the wave out to the door, bowling over everyone that was still foolish enough to try to stop them and ripping a jagged gash in the floor. Aang let the earth stop at the door, jumping off and raising the earth behind him so that it completely blocked the doorway. Already, Aang could hear determined firebenders blasting at the rock, and he knew that they didn’t have long to get going. The bulk of the fighting over, Aang allowed himself to slip out of the Avatar State. It drained a lot of out of him, and he would deeply pay for it if he tried to continue their escape like that. With the loss of that power, he was acutely aware of his wounds, as well as the full body ache that came from sustained bending. He ignored that to check on Mai, who hadn’t made a sound since she had been shot. 

“Are you okay?” he asked anxiously, his hand ghosting over the shoulder that still had an arrow sticking out of it. Mai’s expression was tight from the pain, but she swiftly brought her other hand which was now holding a knife (how long had that been there, Aang wondered), and cut through the shaft of the arrow, leaving the head buried in her flesh. She moved too fast for him to object or question her, though he understood that if they tried to pull the arrow out now she would likely bleed to death.

“I’m fine,” she answered shortly, carelessly tossing the remains of the arrow away. “We need to run.” She gestured towards the earthen door that Aang had created, which was already cracked and smoking from heat. Aang wanted to argue, or at least offer to carry her, but she took off before he could say anything. Frustrated, Aang had no choice but to run to catch up, tracking the trail of blood droplets that she left behind.

Miraculously, they weren’t followed. Aang could only assume that the Phoenix Authority had chosen to stay behind and lick their wounds rather than chase the Avatar through the city. After a few minutes of running, Aang slackened his pace to a walk, forcing Mai to slow as well. She was still stubbornly refusing to show any weakness, but he could see that she was panting and that her face was even paler than usual. Her wounded arm was carefully cradled against her chest, her other hand still clutched around a knife. She gave him a defiant look, daring him to tell her to slow down.

“I think we’re safe. If they were coming after us, we would know by now,” Aang explained, which was absolutely not true. But it seemed good enough for Mai; she nodded tightly and continued walking by his side. Looking down at her, his stomach churned with guilt at the truly colossal mess their spy mission had turned into.

“I guess it’s a good thing you brought all those knives, huh?” Mai kept her gaze forward on the cobblestones, but he did see her mouth quirk into a small smile. It wasn’t enough. “I’m sorry.” His voice was soft, barely audible. “I shouldn’t have brought you into that.”

Mai rolled her eyes. “Oh, we’re doing this already?” Her tone sounded normal, almost bored, betraying none of the pain that she was surely feeling. “I don’t want an apology, or your misplaced guilt. You asked me for help on a dangerous mission, and I accepted.”

Aang hadn’t been expecting that. “But if I—”

“If I wasn’t there, you might have died,” she interrupted him. “I’m familiar with the Yuyan, I know how deadly they are. We’re both alive, end of story.” She fixed him with a stony glare that eerily reminded him of Aiya staring him down. “I fought in the same war you did.”

Aang deflated. “You’re right, you’re right. I’m—” he caught her scowl and corrected himself before he could apologize again. “I’m glad you were there.” She accepted that, and they kept walking. Aang had a thousand questions he wanted to ask, ranging from her opinion on what they had eavesdropped on to whether she needed help walking. He couldn’t quite articulate any of them, and stayed silent.

Their next argument happened at Mai’s apartment building. She turned to go inside while Aang continued walking forward, towards the palace. He noticed her absence at his side and paused. “We should go to the palace, you need to see a healer.”

“I’m fine,” Mai responded automatically, though the blood dripping down her arm and smeared on her face said otherwise.

“You’re not fine, but Katara can fix your shoulder so you will be.”

“I said I’m fine!” Mai snapped, taking a step away from him. “I have bandages in my room, and I can go see my doctor tomorrow.”

“I’m not kidding around, you need to see Katara _now_ if you don’t want to lose that arm or bleed out!” Aang was genuinely getting angry now, he could hear himself raising his voice. 

Mai looked up sharply at his change in tone, but stubbornly refused to move towards him. “And I’m not kidding either, I can handle it myself!” 

Aang could feel the frustration bubbling in his chest, but as he examined Mai’s expression he could feel that anger deflating. She looked obstinate, yes, but also looked more anxious than she had the entire rest of the night. He could see why she would reject the idea of limping up to the palace, asking her ex-boyfriend and his wife for help. Unfortunately for her, Aang was unwilling to accept her going to nurse her wounds alone in her apartment, so this was not a fight she could win.

“Mai,” he said gently. “I get it, I really do. But I’m not going to let you hurt yourself like this.”

She hesitated. “Can’t you heal it?” A note of desperation crept into her voice. “Aren’t you a waterbender?”

His gut clenched; he hated being helpless to relieve someone’s pain, and it was doubly heart breaking when it was someone he cared about as much as Mai. “Not something like this. I never quite got the hang of it the way that Katara did.” Aang had found that, while he was able to use waterbending to heal surface level scrapes and bruises, he never really fully mastered healing as a discipline. 

Mai wavered, her mouth set in a grim line, enough that Aang began deliberating the logistics of bringing Katara out to the stubborn girl’s apartment. Finally, her shoulders slumped, and she wordlessly resumed walking, heading towards the palace. Relief crashed over Aang in a wave, and, as he had done most of the night, he followed her.

* * *

“We need one of you to take us to an infirmary, now,” Aang informed the guards stationed outside the front door of the palace. They looked shocked, but Aang had pushed back the hood of his cloak to reveal his distinctive arrow tattoo, and snapped to attention. “Can one of you have Katara meet us there?” he asked to the guards in general. One of them immediately bowed and sprinted down the hallway, towards the royal bedchambers. The other guards clustered around the pair, herding them to the infirmary. Mai had walked the entire way by herself, and shrugged off the hands that tried to steady her. 

Katara arrived at the medical room less than a minute after they did, out of breath. She had obviously been deep asleep; a robe was haphazardly thrown over her sleeping clothes, and her hair was in a wild tangle around her head. She made a beeline for Aang, exclaiming, “What happened? Are you okay?”

Confused, Aang held out his arms to ward her off. He caught sight of his burned arm, only just then remembering that he had been injured. The burn was minor and the cut on his leg had already stopped bleeding. They were not the wounds he was concerned about. “I’m fine,” he reassured Katara. “Mai needs help, she got shot with an arrow.”

“An arrow?” Aang jumped; he hadn’t noticed Zuko appear in the doorway. He strode over to Mai, who Aang had barely managed to coax into sitting down before anyone else arrived. Katara had swiftly moved over to examine the other woman’s shoulder, unflinchingly evaluating the damage. 

“Not good, but I’ve seen worse,” she said decisively. “Zuko, fill up a basin with water and bring over some towels. Aang, hand me those scissors from the table behind you.” Aang turned and grabbed the large pair of shears, giving them to Katara with some trepidation. The waterbender cut Mai’s sleeve around the remainder of the arrow shaft, peeling the fabric away from the drying blood. When the garment was completely free, she ruthlessly stripped it away, leaving Mai in her undershirt. Aang barely held back a gasp when the injury was fully exposed. Her arm and shirt were caked in blood, and the skin that he could see was red and inflamed. Mai was feigning disinterest, but Aang couldn’t help but noticed she refused to look at it.

By now, Zuko had come back with a bowl of water and a stack of clean towels. Katara pulled the water over her hands and placed them against Mai’s shoulder. As the water began to glow blue, Katara called out more instructions. “Zuko, Aang, one of you needs to pull out the arrow while I’m healing her.” Aang was sure that his own horrified expression mirrored Zuko’s. The two men faltered, making eye contact with each other, seeing who would offer to do the grotesque deed first.

Before either of them could move, Mai reached over with her good hand and yanked the arrow out herself. She hissed in pain, carelessly throwing the bloody arrow onto the floor. Aang couldn’t help but be a little impressed by the action, even as Katara shouted wordlessly in exasperation and slapped the offended hand away. “No more heroics, if you move again I’m knocking you out,” she growled. That, of all things, got Mai to smile.

Zuko rubbed a hand across his face, clearly haggard from the interrupted night of sleep. His long, dark hair was loose around his shoulders, and there was a shadow of stubble on his cheeks. He turned to Aang, worry etched across his features. “This was supposed to be a reconnaissance mission, what happened?” There was a hint of anger in his voice, but Aang didn’t know if that was directed at him, Mai, or Zuko himself. 

Aang sighed, lowering himself in a chair and wincing as his muscles protested the shift. “It’s not good,” he admitted. “This group, the Phoenix Authority…they’ve been planning this for years. There were about fifteen people at this meeting, but they have more, all over the city. There leader was there tonight.”

“It’s Daichi,” Mai interjected. After Katara’s latest threat, she was actually cooperating and sitting still, letting the waterbender focus on her shoulder. The blue light from the glowing water shimmered eerily across Mai’s face; she looked ethereal, otherworldly. 

Zuko swore and Katara flinched, pausing in her work to exchange a worried look with her husband. Catching Aang’s confused expression, Zuko explained. “Daichi was on my father’s war council. They were all dismissed when I became Fire Lord, and banished from Caldera City.” Aang recalled the early days of Zuko’s reign, and how conflicted he had been about how to treat Ozai’s old staff. No matter how many people reassured him that the circumstances of the banishment of a group of adult war mongers were vastly different from a father exiling his own child, Zuko remained anguished at the decision. Thinking back on it, Aang could now remember Mai cynically saying that the expulsion was a temporary solution, that those men would never be happy retiring in the countryside. She didn’t look happy to be proven right a decade later.

“Okay, well Daichi is here, now,” Aang picked up telling his report again. “His second is a Yuyan archer, a woman named Aiya. She was the one who spotted us.”

Zuko grimaced. “I’ve heard of her. She defected from the Yuyan about three years ago. She…did not go peacefully.”

Aang didn’t want to ask. “How many casualties?”

“She killed five of her fellow archers, and wounded ten more.”

That was not good news. Aang groaned. “Anyway, we had to fight our way out. Daichi got away almost immediately. Mai held Aiya off until we could escape, and got shot in the process.”

“You held off a Yuyan archer yourself?” Zuko turned to Mai, eyes wide.

She coolly met his gaze, refusing to match his manic energy. “You sound surprised.”

Zuko faltered. “That’s not what I meant, just—” he was saved by Katara, who abruptly stood up and let the water flow from her hands back to the bowl.

“I’ve done as much as I can now. Provided you rest tonight, it’ll heal fine with minimal scarring.” Mai ran her fingertips over the small divot that was all that remained of the arrow hole, and experimentally rotated her shoulder. Katara went to stand next to Zuko, absent-mindedly resting her head on his shoulder and closing her eyes. He shifted, moving his arm so Katara was enfolded in the overlarge sleeve of his sleeping robe. Aang was too tired and uneasy to feel any type of way about that. He turned his attention to Mai, who was already looking much better. The tension in his body melted away, and he could finally appreciate the miracle of the two of them making it out in one piece. Wordlessly, he offered a hand out to her. She studied it suspiciously for a moment, before shyly putting her own hand in it. She gave it one reassuring squeeze before withdrawing it.

Zuko, meanwhile, had drawn up two chairs across from Mai and Aang for him and Katara to sit in. “This is far worse than we expected,” he sighed. “Did you find out what they want?”

“It’s probably what you expected,” Aang answered, shrugging. “They think you don’t have the Fire Nation’s best interests at heart, me and Toph are influencing you, they want to return to the glory days.”

“And Katara?” Zuko’s tone was harshs.

“They say she’s…” Aang trailed off, unwilling to repeat the disgusting things that the rebels had said about Katara.

Mai did not share his reluctance. “They’re calling her a whore and a spy. They think she’s using you to shift the government so it favors the Water Tribes, so they can take over.”

Katara’s dark glare spoke for all of them. “Anything else?”

“No, Aiya spotted us before we could hear anything about what they’re going to do next.” The weight of the situation pressed down on him like a physical thing, reminding him that despite everything that had happened, they had no idea what the Phoenix Authority was planning.

Zuko rose to his feet. “I’ll start sending out scouts tomorrow throughout the city, see if they can find anything. Everyone should get some rest.” Aang was yanked out of his seat by the firebender and crushed into a tight hug. The movement made the burn on his arm flare up, but Aang ignored it. He closed his eyes, allowing himself to relax as Katara embraced him too. “Thank you,” Zuko murmured, Katara nodding her assent into his shoulder. The three disengaged, and if there was some sniffling, nobody said anything. 

Zuko turned to Mai, who was still sitting down, and awkwardly bowed to her. “Thank you too, Mai. We appreciate everything you did for us tonight.” The stark difference between the two shows of gratitude was painfully obvious. Mai didn’t say anything, and after a beat the married couple headed towards the door.

“You two go, I’ll just be a minute,” Aang said, noticing Katara had paused in the doorway. Katara’s gaze meaningfully slid between Aang and Mai, but she followed her husband back to their bedchamber. Mai rose to her feet and stretched both arms over her head with no apparent discomfort. The sleeveless black undershirt that Mai was left in was cropped a few inches above her bellybutton, and Aang caught himself staring at her lean abdominal muscles flexing with the movement. He looked away, hoping the flush that he knew was creeping up his neck wasn’t too noticeable. 

Wanting something to do with his hands, Aang gathered up the remains of Mai’s clothing that had been cut away and handed it to her. “So how many more times am I allowed to apologize?”

Mai accepted her blood-stained shirt and began combing through it, removing the remaining knives from the dozens of hidden pockets. “Zero.”

He should have expected that. “What about ‘thank you for keeping that archer from turning me into a pincushion’?”

She paused, considering. “Five.”

Aang laughed. “I’ll take it.”

Mai finished collecting her knives and unceremoniously dumped her ruined clothes on her chair. She looked at his burn and frowned. “Why didn’t you have Katara heal that?”

Aang blinked. “Oh. I guess I forgot.” He pulled some water from the basin and settled it over his arm, breathing deeply. The water began to glow, and he sighed in relief as the sting of the burn faded away.

Mai raised an eyebrow. “You forgot?” 

“I was worried about you.”

That was enough to break through Mai’s carefully neutral expression. She ducked her head, but Aang could still see the corner of her mouth lift up, and hint of red on her cheeks. “Oh.”

“I don’t suppose there’s anything I can say to convince you to stay the night here so Katara can check on you in the morning?”

“Not a chance. And I’m sure there’s nothing I can say that will keep you from checking on me yourself tomorrow.”

He grinned. “Not a chance.”

* * *

Aang made himself wait until the evening the next day to stop by Mai’s apartment. This was partially to give her some space, and partially because he knew she had to work all day and she would be furious if he tried to bother her in the morning. He knocked on her door, fidgeting anxiously as he waited for her to answer. She _should_ have made it home just fine, but Aang couldn’t help but think that he should have walked her home, or somehow made her stay at the palace, or…

Mai opened the door and blinked in surprise. “You’re using the door now?”

As thrilled as he was to see her alive and well, it took a second for the question to sink in. “You told me to.” He hadn’t been sure how serious she had been the previous night, but Aang chose to be safe rather than sorry. Though he hadn’t necessarily _minded_ getting pinned to the wall, he didn’t want to push her boundaries or make her feel uncomfortable. He trailed after her into the living room, taking up his usual spot on the couch. “How are you doing?”

“I’m fine,” Mai said automatically. “How chaotic was the palace today?”

Aang groaned, remembering how hectic the day had been. “Absolutely insane. Zuko was in a frenzy, he must have hired and sent out over a hundred scouts.” Aang couldn’t really blame him, the news that they had brought back last night was grim. “They wanted me to thank you again, and to apologize for you getting caught up in everything. And you can’t get mad about that apology because it’s from them, not me.”

Mai appraised him thoughtfully, then held out a hand. “Give it to me.”

Aang considered feigning ignorance, but decided there was no point. He reached into his robe and pulled out a small, beautifully polished wooden box. He handed it over and Mai snapped open the clasp, revealing a set of meticulously crafted shuriken. Mai took one out, examining it. It was flawless, perfectly balanced and razor sharp, the metal painted matte black so they wouldn’t reflect light. It was one of the first things that Zuko had taken care of that morning. The firebender had pushed the newly purchased box into his hands, insisting that Mai accept it. “How’d you know?”

“I’m something of an expert in Zuko apologies.” Though the words themselves were bitter, her tone was more jaded than anything. She put the throwing star back in the box and set it aside. She settled down on the floor, leaning back against the body of the couch. 

“I guess you’ll have to be more careful next time, so he doesn’t have anything to apologize for.”

She gave him a startled look. “Next time?”

“Yeah ‘next time,’ you think I’ll let you off the hook after one injury?” Aang playfully pushed on the shoulder she had been shot in. “Seriously, that was impressive. And you have to admit, we make a pretty good team.”

She smiled, just a little, at the compliment. “I guess so. Does that mean you’re sticking around? I thought your entire thing was traversing the world and solving problems.”

Her tone was carefully casual; Aang couldn’t parse out exactly how she felt about him potentially leaving. “I thought I’d stick around and help solve this particular problem. Why, are you sick of me?”

She laughed, and something inside him melted at the sound. “Not yet.” She twisted to meet his eyes, one hand on the couch cushions tantalizingly close to his knee. “Are you sick of me?”

Aang used every ounce of his self control not to reach out and run his fingers through her hair. He’d known for years the type of intimacy that comes from fighting side by side with someone, and yet it takes him by surprise every time. He’s playing a dangerous game, this thing with Mai, and a part of him revels in it.

“Never.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> me writing the description of Aiya: I wonder if anyone can tell I'm a lesbian.
> 
> Aang believes in the inherent eroticism of fighting for your life side-by-side with someone who could kill you.


	5. in my dreams, I'm to blame

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> YES I upped the chapter count NO I do not want to talk about it.

“Mai, you really should get someone to clean in here,” her mother scolded her, running her finger across the kitchen counter and grimacing.

There was a part of Mai’s brain that seemed dedicated to the migraine brought on every time she was with her parents. “The building has a cleaning service that comes in once a week, Mom,” she replied evenly, carrying a tray with three cups of oolong tea and one cup of hot chocolate to the living room. Her family had made a rather annoying habit of dropping in on her with very little notice, so she was always prepared for it. A clean apartment, plenty of food, and tea headed off the worst of the criticism. She set the tray down on the low table in front of her father, who gratefully accepted one of the teacups. Tom-Tom ignored the drinks; he was sitting on the floor, sorting through one of her boxes of knives and shuriken. Their mother left the kitchen to hover over Tom-Tom, her mouth pursed in disapproval. 

“Nasty business with this new Phoenix coup,” her father, Ukano, said conversationally. Mai’s expression stayed neutral as she set the tea and hot chocolate out on the table, each one with a small napkin. It had been about a week since her and Aang’s reconnaissance mission that had gone so spectacularly wrong, and the whole city was buzzing about the rebellion. Zuko’s scouts had found very little; the members of the Phoenix Authority seemed to have vanished into thin air. Mai’s parents didn’t know about her involvement, and she planned to keep it that way.

“So disrespectful and cowardly,” her mother sniffed, leaving the kitchen to perch on the couch next to her husband. “There’s a right way to express your opinion, and threatening the Fire Lord is _not_ that.” She maintained eye contact with Mai until, with an almost-inaudible sigh, she went back to the kitchen to get the forgotten sugar bowl.

Ukano hummed in agreement. “Too right, Michi. How is Zuko handling all of this?” He asked Mai, who placed the sugar bowl in front of her mother before taking her own seat on the chair.

“I’m sure he’s worried, but he’ll be fine,” Mai responded coolly. Zuko was still a sore subject among the three of them. Her parents were firmly convinced that everything that had gone wrong there had been Mai’s fault, and that she should have tried harder. “Both him and Katara are excellent benders, even without the contingency of palace guards.” Her face didn’t betray the bitter satisfaction she felt at her mother’s grimace. Unsurprisingly, her parents were not fond of Katara’s presence in Zuko’s life, which meant that Mai brought her up whenever the conversation veered dangerously into another Zuko argument.

“Still, they need to be careful,” Michi sniffed, spooning sugar into her tea. “They aren’t the only ones in danger, you know. This rebellion could begin targeting anyone in the government with ties to the Fire Lord.”

Ah, of course. They were worried about themselves. Ukano was on the governing board for the education department of the Fire Nation, a position that Mai had managed to obtain for him after the war. It wasn’t as prestigious as being a governor, but it was better than being banished. Not that Mai ever thought her parents were genuine Ozai supporters, they were just desperate to maintain their image and be on the ‘winning’ side. They had switched over to supporting Zuko quickly enough. Mai cynically thought that, if the coup was somehow successful in overthrowing Zuko, her father would find a way to wrangle a promotion from the new Fire Lord in exchange for his loyalty.

The conversation was disrupted by a knock at the door. Mai froze, praying to every spirit that she could name that it wasn’t who she thought it was. She recalled a certain airbender that knew that she wasn’t working today, and had offered to take her out to lunch.

“I’ll get it!” Tom-Tom announced, eagerly running to the door. Mai slowly rose to her feet, ignoring Michi’s judgmental glare. Tom-Tom opened the door to reveal Aang, confirming Mai’s belief that the spirits, if they did exist, were not on her side. 

The airbender looked startled to see the young boy answer the door, and his eyes roved across the living room, taking in Mai and her guests, all of whom were staring at him. A look of recognition seemed to flash across his face, and he turned his attention back to her brother. “Are you Tom-Tom?” he asked in a suspiciously cheerful voice.

“Yes?” the boy answered, suddenly shy in the face of a stranger. 

Aang broke into a wide grin. “I knew it! I kidnapped you once.”

Mai winced and slapped the palm of her hand into her face. 

Her parents became visibly alarmed at that, both moving to stand behind Tom-Tom in the doorway. Tom-Tom had an expression that matched Aang’s delighted one, exclaiming, “Really? Cool!” 

Aang seemed to pick up on the tension from her parents, and backpedaled. “Well, technically you followed my lemur and kidnapped yourself. And then I brought you back,” he explained, sounding more nervous than she had ever heard.

“You brought him back?” Michi said faintly, and Aang nodded. Her parents exchanged one of those glances that they used in place of actual conversation, then reluctantly stepped aside to allow Aang into the apartment. He stepped over the threshold, leaning his glider against the wall by the door. Mai thought he would be better off keeping it closer to the balcony, in case he needed to make a quick escape.

“I’m Aang, the Avatar,” he introduced himself, bowing respectfully to them.

“I’m Ukano, and this is my wife, Michi,” her father said, wrapping one arm around his wife. “We’re Mai’s parents.” Neither of them seemed sure what to make of the Avatar appearing at their daughter’s door. Mai decided to help everyone out.

“Thank you for stopping by, Aang, but as you can see I’m a little busy today,” she said smoothly, putting a hand on his back to not-so-gently guide him out. He gave her his hurt puppy-dog eyes, and she returned with a “this is for your own good” glare. 

“Mai!” her mother exclaimed. “Is that how you treat a guest?” Her display of poor manners appeared to be enough to shake Michi out of her confused state, and she had settled right back on criticizing Mai. Michi gave Aang an apologetic smile. “Please, have a seat.” She guided Aang over to the living room, calling out, “Mai, go make another cup of tea for the Avatar.” Mai’s jaw clenched tight enough that it popped, but she wordlessly made her way to the kitchen to comply.

“No, that’s fine, I don’t need any tea,” Aang protested. He seemed uncomfortable, which Mai didn’t blame him for. Her own coping mechanism for dealing with her parents was to just go along with whatever they said, which was why she was already pouring another cup of tea as her mother tutted, “No, don’t be silly, Mai doesn’t mind.”

Mai returned to the living room to find that, to her amusement, Michi had settled Aang on the couch between her and Ukano. Mai handed Aang his teacup, unable to hide a smirk at his bewildered expression. It didn’t take long for Aang to settle in, and predictably he set about charming both of her parents. Mai eased back into her chair, content to observe rather than be targeted, for once. That small smile flickered around her lips as she watched Aang regale them with tales of his travels, his hands weaving pictures in the air. Tom-Tom had put aside the weapons for the moment to sit on the floor by the table, sipping on his hot chocolate and staring at Aang with awestruck eyes. At one point, Mai laughed aloud at his story. He paused, beaming, and looked at her with such warm, unbridled affection that she had to turn her gaze to the cooling cup of tea in her lap. 

Eventually, the dialogue turned back to the Phoenix Authority. Aang shook his head, explaining Zuko’s frustration with how little headway they had made in stopping the coup. “Ever since Mai and I got caught spying on one of their meetings, they’ve gone completely underground.”

Mai’s head snapped up, at the same time that her mother gasped. “You and Mai? And…spying?” she half-whispered. 

Aang, who didn’t appear to have sensed his misstep, enthusiastically elaborated. “Yeah, last week. I can’t believe she didn’t tell you! She was amazing, she took on a Yuyan archer by herself.”

Tom-Tom’s jaw dropped. Ukano cleared his throat, and Michi had fixed Mai with an icy stare. “Excuse me Aang, do you mind if we speak with our daughter in private? It will only be a minute.” 

Mai tried to communicate with her eyes that Aang certainly should mind, but of course he gave her mother his most charismatic grin and said, “Not at all! I’ll hang out here with Tom-Tom.” Michi rose first and walked past Mai, grasping her elbow in an iron grip and yanking her to her feet. Her mother steered her into her bedroom, with Ukano close behind. Mai chanced a look over her shoulder and saw Aang and Tom-Tom move over to where he had laid out her knives before the bedroom door closed. 

“I don’t even know where to begin!” Michi fussed, wringing her hands together. “Let’s start with you explaining why the Avatar is dropping by your home unannounced.” Her mother spoke in a way that Mai wasn’t sure what part of that situation was upsetting her: the Avatar himself, a man coming to her apartment, or that he had done so without telling her. She didn’t really care to ask for an elaboration. Nor did she care to explain that they had been perfectly fine with Aang being there a minute ago. “Are the two of you…?” she trailed off, giving Mai a meaningful look.

Mai sighed. “No, Mom. I’m not dating Aang.”

Michi did not look pleased with that answer. “I know you like to think your father and I are oblivious, but we’re not idiots. You have a _man_ visiting you in the middle of the day—”

“He’s a friend, that’s it—”

“—and now the two of you are going off on…on _secret spy trips_ —” 

“That was a favor for Zuko—”

“—and _really_ , you should know better at your age than to go off running around with strange men—”

“He’s not a stranger, you’ve met him multiple times—”

Ukano stepped between the two women: one of them bright red, hissing angrily between her teeth, and the other speaking in her usual dry cadence. He put a calming hand on his wife’s shoulder, before addressing Mai. “Dear, we know when you were younger we encouraged your…” he hesitated. “ _unique_ hobbies. But it is unbecoming for a woman of your age and stature to be running off in the night like a crazed vigilante. Now, if you intend to make this commitment to the Avatar official, we might be able to overlook some of these transgressions.” His tone was soothing, condescending. Mai wanted to scream and wipe the patronizing looks off their faces. Remind them that they had encouraged her “unique hobbies” because the royal family viewed non-benders with disgust unless they could prove themselves able to make up for their shortcomings. That the first time she tried to spend time with Azula, the princess had knocked her to the ground and lit her hair on fire, and was told in no uncertain terms that if she couldn’t defend herself she wasn’t welcome back. That there wasn’t a problem until she had broken up with Zuko and they had shifted to offering her up to the local nobles, who wanted meek, beautiful women to show off to each other. That they had groomed her into a warrior and then tried to undo those years of work to make her weak and malleable again. That she would rather die than be some pathetic politician’s silent trophy wife.

Of course, she said none of that. Instead, Michi turned to Ukano, her eyes glowing. “A commitment to the Avatar, now that would be something,” she mused. “He’s not Fire Nation, but there’s no denying that he has influence.”

“Precisely. I was just speaking to Hisao the other day…” Ukano droned on, Michi nodding along and hanging on to his every word. They bent their heads together and lowered their voices conspiratorially, forgetting that Mai was still in the room. It would be cute if it wasn’t so blatantly disrespectful; no matter what was going on in the world, her parents were always on the same page, in each other’s minds. When they got like this, an explosion wouldn’t be enough to distract them, so it wasn’t hard for Mai to slip out of the bedroom without them noticing. She surveyed her living room, pleased to find it still in one piece. Aang and Tom-Tom had set up a few of her targets against one wall, and were now taking turns throwing knives at them. Tom-Tom was berating Aang for cheating and using airbending, and Aang claimed that he would never stoop so low. Both were giggling. She was not at all surprised that he was good with kids, nor that Tom-Tom was looking at him like he was a god.

Mai took the opportunity to observe, and entertain the crazy life choice that her parents were discussing without her. She’d be lying if she said that Aang wouldn’t make an excellent companion. He was kind, and smart, and he made her laugh in a way that very few people could. Being with him was a reminder that life was dangerous and exciting, and that she herself was dangerous and exciting. She still dreamed about their flight on the sky bison, and the way being above the clouds made her feel freer than she ever had before. It certainly didn’t hurt that he was effortlessly gorgeous, confident but not cocky. He gave his heart freely and openly. It would be very easy, she thought, to fall in love with him.

And that, in itself, was the problem. Mai was not so careless with her feelings. With every year that passed and every breakup, she could feel the scandalized gossiping of the Fire Nation high society pressing down on her, probing her for weaknesses. Aang could very well decide that he liked her, and then disappear the next day. And if anyone could have his heart, how could she hope to keep it for herself?

She shook her head as though that would be enough to dislodge the train of thought, wondering when she allowed her parents’ insanity to infect her. None of that mattered, of course, because Aang didn’t feel that way about her. They were friends, and Mai was happy enough to have that. Turning her attention back to the scene in the living room, Mai was glad to see that her younger brother’s target had most of the knives clustered around the middle. Aang’s were a bit more haphazard, with one knife embedded in the target dangerously close to the wall. 

“Can you really bend all the elements?” Tom-Tom was asking, his eyes shining. 

“Of course, I’m the Avatar,” Aang responded good-naturedly. “Are you a bender?”

“No, nobody in our family is,” Tom-Tom sulked. He picked up another one of her knives by the handle and threw it, cheering when it struck the bullseye.

Aang finally seemed to see that she had entered the room and winked at her. “That’s fine. Mai is way scarier than any bender I’ve ever met.” 

“Mai isn’t scary,” Tom-Tom argued, turning to look at her and giving her a sunny grin. “She’s funny.”

“Really?” Aang was obviously skeptical, which Mai didn’t blame him for. Then again, her baby brother saw a very different side of her than any of her peers did.

“Yes!” Tom-Tom replied, sounding offended at the implication. “She tells the best jokes, and she has great ideas for pranks. Also when I was younger she used to read me stories and do all the funny voices.” He had his most innocent face on, but Mai could tell that he was no longer defending her and had moved on to trying to embarrass her. She walked up behind him and stuck her fingers down the back of his shirt, tickling his neck. Tom-Tom yelped and swatted at her hand.

Aang’s mouth dropped open. “ _Really?_ ” he repeated gleefully, turning his full attention to Mai. She refused to look at him, instead settling on the floor next to Tom-Tom to help collect the knives.

“Tom-Tom, what did I say about telling people about the funny voices?” she asked, poking him in the stomach when he scrunched his neck down so she couldn’t reach it.

“You said I’m not allowed to tell your friends,” Tom-Tom obediently replied, without a hint of remorse. “Is Aang your friend?” Before Mai could answer, a thought seemed to occur to Tom-Tom, and his eyes widened, a devious grin spreading across his face. “Is he your _boyfriend?_ ” 

An awkward silence descended on the trio. Her parents’ discussion and her earlier speculation left Mai tongue-tied, unable to answer. After just a beat too long, Aang was the first one to speak. “No, just a regular friend.” He rubbed the back of his neck. “Right?” he directed the question at her, one eyebrow raised.

“Right,” she echoed, looking away.

Tom-Tom sucked in air through his teeth and muttered, “Yikes.” Aang chuckled at that, which got Tom-Tom to start laughing, and whatever tension was in the air was broken.

“Ahem,” Ukano cleared his throat. Her parents had finished their unsolicited discussion of her romantic prospects, and were now watching the scene from the bedroom doorway. Though they weren’t doing anything inappropriate, Mai still took a couple steps back, distancing herself from Aang.

“Well, I don’t want to intrude any further on your time with Mai, so I think I’m going to go,” Aang said. 

“Nooooooo,” Tom-Tom moaned, causing Mai to roll her eyes at his theatrics.

Michi also didn’t look too happy about this development. “Oh, you don’t have to do that! You’re welcome to stay.” Mai wondered exactly what arrangement they were planning to propose to Aang, and thought it would be in her best interest to get him out as soon as possible.

“No, he’s right. I’ll see him out.” Mai led the way to the front door. Aang trailed after her, waving goodbye to Tom-Tom. It wasn’t until they were both on the other side of the closed door that Mai let out one big exhale, propping herself against the wall. “I am so sorry about that. They don’t really announce when they’re going to visit. I found out about fifteen minutes before they showed up.”

Aang laughed. “Don’t apologize, it was fun.” Mai threw him a scathing, disbelieving glare. “Well, hanging out with your brother was fun,” he amended. 

Mai’s mouth twitched into a smile. “I’m pretty sure you made his day. He’s going to be bragging about throwing knives with the Avatar at school for the next year.” She decidedly did not bring up her parents’ conversation; if she was lucky, Aang would never know about it. “They should be gone by six, if you want to stop by after that.”

“Yeah, okay, I’ll come back then.” He wrapped her up in a comforting hug, and Mai let herself relax into it for a fraction of a second. When he released her, he gave her a contemplative look that made her question if he had been able to feel her pounding heart. Instead of commenting on it, he gave her one of those dazzling, sunny smiles. “Good luck in there!” he called out, before disappearing down the hallway. Mai had no choice but to return to her apartment’s oppressive atmosphere, though it felt a little less oppressive now.

* * *

“Nothing,” Zuko growled, crumpling up the latest message in his hand. “Two weeks, and there’s been _nothing._ How is that possible? Aren’t they trying to overthrow me?”

Aang blinked in confusion. “You’re upset because the Phoenix Authority _hasn’t_ tried anything yet?”

Katara snorted into her wine glass as Zuko glared at the monk. “Of course not! I’m just sick of this…waiting around.” He waved one hand in wild circles over his head. “I would have thought that once Daichi knew we were onto him, he would want to strike before we could stop him.”

“He’s a cautious man,” Aang offered. “The others in the Phoenix Authority were frustrated with how slowly he was moving, but he knows to wait and strike at the perfect opportunity.”

“Aang’s right, he won’t make a move until he can catch us off guard.” Katara encapsulated Zuko’s hand in hers, reassuringly running her thumb against his palm. “We’re just going to have to be patient, and stay alert.”

Being patient was not the Fire Lord’s strong suit. He sighed, no more encouraged than he had been before dinner. The reports from the scouts throughout the city came in steadily, one every few hours, throughout the day. All of them said the same thing: Daichi and the Phoenix Authority were nowhere to be found. In any other circumstance, Aang would have been frustrated about being stuck in one place for so long doing nothing. 

“I’m going to head out,” he said, standing up from the table.

“To see Mai?” Katara asked, every night, in the same knowing, teasing tone. This battle of wills had been going on for the past two weeks: Katara refusing to ask him about his feelings towards Mai, and him refusing to go to her for advice. Aang couldn’t fully explain why he was so reticent to ask Katara for guidance on the matter. Maybe he was embarrassed, that he clearly felt so strongly about Mai while she gave no indication of returning his feelings. Or maybe it was that he didn’t want Katara to bluntly tell him that he was wasting his time. Either way, if Katara wanted information, she was going to have to wrangle it out of him herself.

“Yes,” he answered shortly. Minutes later, he was flying out his bedroom window.

* * *

Aang had a bad feeling in his gut the moment he saw that Mai’s apartment door was ajar. He peeked through the opening, but couldn’t see much from this angle. 

“Mai?” he murmured, rapping his knuckles on the partially open door. No response, and his unease grew. Carefully, he pushed the door open further, waiting. When nothing happened, he slipped inside, his hands up and ready for a fight. He scanned the room, and gasped.

Both the table and chair in the living room had been knocked over, and the couch had several slashes in it. One of Mai’s knives was embedded in the wall. Most concerning of all was the trail of blood leading into Mai’s bedroom. 

“Mai!” Aang shouted, heart in his throat. He fought to quell the panic that was trying to overwhelm him. He started towards the bedroom, bracing himself for what he might find in there. Before he could reach the door, it opened, a figure looming in the doorway. 

“What?” Mai asked, far too calmly considering her apartment looked like a crime scene. Aang had to grab onto the wall to keep from collapsing, his legs turning to jelly in relief at seeing her unharmed. 

“I…you…what…” Aang stuttered, gesturing to the chaos in the living room. “ _What happened?_ ”

Mai beckoned him to follow her into the bedroom. Aang did so with trepidation, wondering if this was perhaps a bizarre nightmare that he could wake up from. His stomach turned as he inspected the bedroom.

There were four men laying on the floor, all knocked unconscious. Two of them were bleeding from the knives embedded in their legs, likely the source of the blood out in the living room. All of them had been pinned to the floor by their clothes, their figures circled around Mai. Aang’s instincts kicked in and he went around the room to check that each man was still breathing. They were all still alive, although the bruises on their foreheads from the blows that Mai had used to knock them out indicated they would not be happy when they woke up. 

Before Aang could work out which of his thousand questions he wanted to ask first, Mai held out a scroll to him. “This is for you,” she said in that same dispassionate tone. Aang unraveled the scroll and began to read out loud.

“Avatar, we have taken your partner. Do as we say, and she will be returned to you unharmed. Further instructions will follow. Regards, the Phoenix Authority.” Aang let the message fall from numb hands. It landed in a pool of blood and began to absorb the liquid, the red spreading across the pristine white surface. 

“I’m fine,” Mai answered, anticipating his fretting. “It was barely a fight. I didn’t have much on hand in the living room so I led them in here.” Aang was aware that Mai’s bedside tables were full of weapons, which he had never fully appreciated until now. He looked her over shrewdly, aware that if she were injured she would probably try to downplay it or even hide it from him, but she really seemed to be completely unharmed. There were no bruises or cuts on her face to indicate that she had been hit, even her clothes still seemed perfectly pressed. 

Mai caught him examining her and scowled. “I’m _fine._ Honestly, I’m a little insulted they only sent four people after me.” She contemptuously kicked one of the unconscious men on the arm, and he groaned in response. “And don’t start with the self-indulgent ‘oh, this is all my fault, what have I done’ bullshit. I’m really not in the mood.” Ironically, Mai’s sour disposition made Aang feel a little bit better. It was similar to their usual dynamic, and was something that could ground him and keep from spiraling off into panic. 

“Okay, I won’t,” Aang replied dryly, his mind trying to analytically decide what their next steps should be. “Do you have any rope?” At Mai’s odd look, he hastily elaborated. “We’ll need to get them up to the palace so Zuko can talk to them, and it’ll be safer if they’re all tied up.”

Mai didn’t have anything on hand they could use, so she brought out an old sheet and they began tearing the fabric into strips and binding the intruders’ hands and feet together.

“So,” Aang broke the silence first. “We need a plan.”

Mai hummed in agreement, but didn’t say anything.

“I think,” he spoke slowly, already anticipating the imminent argument. “You should come stay at the palace.”

Mai, predictably, said, “No.”

“Come on, what are you going to do if they send ten people next time? Or twenty?”

“I’ll handle it.”

“So you’re just going to fight off waves and waves of potential kidnappers forever?”

“You’re being dramatic. They don’t care that much about me. They were just trying to upset you.”

Aang wanted to scream, to say that they were right, that they couldn’t have picked a better person to target to hurt him. If he had found an empty apartment and the ransom note he would have torn the city apart. “Still, they’ll definitely send more. Especially once these four don’t come back.”

“No,” Mai said again, a little more forcefully. “I hate staying there. Everything in the guest rooms is bright red with the flame insignia, they look like a parody of what other nations think of Fire Nation interior design. And there’s portraits of Zuko literally everywhere. One of them has a picture of him in the bathroom.” She emphasized her displeasure by aggressively tightening the bindings on one guy’s ankles.

Well, Aang couldn’t really argue with that. He speculated, for the thousandth time, on what had really happened between Mai and Zuko. Both were reluctant to share details. They were clearly still friendly enough for Mai to get invited to their wedding, but she only seemed to go to the palace when Aang brought her there. 

They diligently worked quietly for another few minutes while Aang pondered his next move. Leaving her here alone was unacceptable, no matter how great of a fighter she was. Daichi had underestimated her once, but Aang didn’t think him the type to do it again. _Maybe we can clear out one of the guest rooms…_ he mused, before remembering that there was, in fact, a very tastefully decorated room already available in the palace.

“You could stay with me,” he tried to sound casual, head down and heart pounding. 

A pause. “What?”

“I have plenty of space in my quarters, and there are zero flame insignias or portraits of Zuko. And that way the next kidnappers can hand me the ransom note directly,” he added in an attempt to lighten the gravity of the situation.

He had braced himself for rejection, and thus was startled when Mai abruptly said, “Okay.”

His head jerked up, eyes wide. “What?”

“Okay, I’ll stay with you,” Mai repeated herself. She finished her work tying up the last of the intruders and rose to her feet. “Give me a few minutes to pack, and I’ll come over with you. I’ll leave my apartment key with the guards so they can come over and take these guys.”

Aang was suspicious. Not that he wasn’t absolutely thrilled, because he was a pathetic idiot who was excited about seeing Mai even more, but he thought there must be a catch. 

Mai finally made eye contact with him and sighed. “I’m guessing it’s either I go stay at the palace with you, or you try to follow me 24/7, and that seems like a waste of your time.” 

Aang couldn’t keep the elated grin off his face. “I appreciate you being so respectful of my time. I am a very important man.”

The ghost of a smirk danced across Mai’s lips. “Humble, too.”

“Hey, I’m a monk. ‘Humble’ is my middle name.”

While Mai packed, Aang busied himself cleaning up the spilled blood on the floor. He also checked on the thwarted kidnappers. Though he was furious about what they had done, it wasn’t in his nature to let people sit around suffering under his watch. They were starting to come to, so Aang moved them so they could each sit up against the wall. He also healed the wounded men as best he could. Mai was deadly accurate with her knives, and so all of the blades expertly avoided hitting any major blood vessels. Aang continued to find it fascinating how she used her incredible skill specifically to do as little harm as possible. If Mai wanted to, she could easily have killed the four men, and probably felt a lot safer for it.

“Ready.” Mai interrupted his musings. Aang stood up and nodded. 

“We’ll send the palace guards to come get you in a few minutes,” he informed the kidnappers. He wasn’t quite sure if he was intending to sound threatening, or reassure them that they wouldn’t be left to die, tied up in Mai’s apartment. Aang picked up the bag that Mai had packed and slung it over his shoulder, before leading the way to the palace.

* * *

“You said there was enough space,” Mai’s tone was accusatory. Aang scanned his living quarters, trying to figure out what she meant. It was the same size it had been when he had left. “There’s only one bedroom,” she elaborated.

“Yeah, you can have the bedroom, I’ll sleep out here,” Aang gestured towards the couch. Truthfully, the plush, over-stuffed palace beds made him feel weird and weightless, after so much time sleeping on the ground or in simple cots. He often found himself sleeping on the couch anyway, even without any guests.

Mai’s eyes narrowed and she looked like she wanted to argue. Instead, she sighed and rubbed her eyes with one hand. “Fine, we’ll try it out. If it gets too crowded, I can leave. If you want.” Aang could not think of a single situation where he would ask her to leave, but he nodded anyway. He followed Mai into the bedroom, dropping her bag off at the foot of the bed. 

“I guess I’ll let you go to sleep. You’ve had a long night,” Aang said gently. He could still feel the stress and tension of the evening coiled in his shoulders, he couldn’t imagine how Mai felt.

“Okay.” Mai looked unsure of herself. She stepped forward to hug him, her arms snaking around his chest. Surprised, Aang didn’t need any prodding to return the hug, wrapping his arms around her and squeezing as tightly as he could. They stood like that for a moment, her head buried against his chest and his chin resting in her hair. Aang let himself close his eyes and relax, appreciating the small moment of vulnerability for what it was.

“Goodnight, Aang,” she murmured, before carefully extricating herself. He lifted his hand in a small wave goodbye, before returning to the living room, carefully closing the door behind him so it wouldn’t slam shut.

* * *

Aang woke up in the middle of the night to the creak of his window opening. He sat bolt upright, looking around frantically as he tried to identify the sound. His eye caught the open window and he tensed at the dark shadow that was crouched there, expecting another Phoenix Authority member to have followed them. He blinked, and the shadow resolved itself into Mai, sitting on the window seat with her chin resting on her arms, which in turn were resting on the windowsill. He rubbed a hand across his face, willing his rapidly beating heart to slow down.

“You snore,” Mai said brusquely, not looking at him. It wasn’t the first time Aang had heard that.

“I prefer to call it night airbending,” he joked, swinging his feet out from under his blanket to stand up. He joined Mai at the window, noting that she had the quilt from the bed wrapped around her shoulders. He wondered how anybody could be so cold all the time in the Fire Nation. Mai scooted over to make room for him, and he obliged.

“Can’t sleep?” he asked redundantly, trying to break through Mai’s pensive silence. Her mouth tightened.

“No,” she replied shortly. 

“Are you worried about the break in?” he asked, trying to coax her into talking to him.

“No,” she said again. Aang waited for her to continue on her own, turning his attention to the sleeping city so she wouldn’t feel so pressured. “I have really bad insomnia,” she finally explained, hunching her shoulders. “I always have a hard time going to bed. I only get about four hours of sleep a night, If I’m lucky.” She finally looked at him, if only just out of the corner of her eye, and smiled sardonically. “Why do you think I’m such a bitch all the time?”

Aang started at that. “I don’t think you’re a bitch.”

Mai wasn’t expecting that. “Oh,” she said in a small voice, before drawing the quilt tighter around herself. “Well. Anyway. I wanted some fresh air, and the window in the bedroom doesn’t have a seat.”

They lapsed into silence. “Maybe I could help you get to sleep?” Aang offered.

Mai raised an eyebrow. “Oh? How?”

“Hmmm,” He thought a moment, tapping his chin with a finger. “What if I tell you a story?”

“Ha ha,” Mai intoned sarcastically. 

“I’m serious!” he protested. “It’ll distract your brain, and might help you relax. At the very least I could bore you to sleep.”

She studied him for a second, before sighing and saying, “Okay, fine.”

Aang began to speak, his low soothing voice blending seamlessly into the balmy night air. He told the story of the first airbenders, who found and befriended the sky bison and learned to bend from them. It was a comforting, familiar story to Aang, one that he had told many times. Sometimes it was to curious historians, who were trying to piece the story of the four nations together after one hundred years of lies and propaganda. Sometimes it was to children, who had never met an airbender before. He could tell it perfectly by now, knowing exactly when to pause for emphasis or change his tone to increase the drama.

There was no gradual change in Mai from her being awake to being asleep, no yawning or drooping eyes. One second, she was sitting upright looking over the city, the next her head had dropped onto his shoulder, eyes closed and breathing deeply. It threw Aang off and he stopped talking in the middle of a sentence to look down at her. He had never examined her this closely before, and he took his time to do so now. He marveled at the contrast between her black hair and pale skin, and how much younger she looked when the harsh lines of the neutral expression that lived on her face were smoothed by sleep. There was a scar on her cheek, just a pale vertical line that had long since healed. He could see the faintest hint of a bruise on her neck that he hadn’t caught earlier. It looked fresh, and Aang realized with a jolt it was probably from the kidnappers earlier that day. 

Mai shifted against him, but Aang didn’t have the heart to wake her up. He carefully maneuvered the arm that she was propped up against so that it was braced against her shoulder, then slipped his other arm under her knees. He slowly rose, the blanket she was wrapped in trailing on the floor and her head still tucked against his shoulder. He carried her into the bedroom and tucked the sheets around her. Without overthinking it, he brushed a few strands of hair from her face, then bent down to kiss her on the forehead. “Goodnight, Mai,” he whispered. He returned to the couch and laid awake for much of the night, wondering how it was possible that he could still smell her on his skin.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As a very wise woman on a TV show once said: "Kids. God's little awkward-moment machines."
> 
> Also not to like. have feelings, but thank yall so much for commenting and sharing how much you like this story! I definitely wasn't expecting that for such a rarepair and it motivates me to keep writing SO MUCH! I promise even if I don't reply to your comment I reread them literally all the time while clutching at my heart!!


	6. love was a currency

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Montage time!

Mai didn’t remember falling asleep. She had been sitting in front of the open window listening to Aang talk, then she blinked and the next thing she knew she was waking up in an unfamiliar bed, sunlight peering through a gap in the curtains to shine directly in her eyes. She groaned and rolled over, but it was too late: she was awake. Swinging her feet out from under the covers, she paused on the edge of the bed, assessing herself. She was sore from the fight yesterday, but nothing unbearable. One of the would-be kidnappers had jabbed her in the collarbone, and she absent-mindedly rubbed at the emerging bruise. Otherwise, she was fine. Really, a best-case scenario for an attempted kidnapping. She knew she should be terrified or traumatized by the events of the previous evening. But honestly, it had been kind of exciting to fight for her life again. Not that she was looking forward to more strangers attacking her in her home, but other than her and Aang’s initial spy mission, she hadn’t been in a battle in years. 

Of course, Aang had overreacted and insisted that she stay at the palace with him. Which she had agreed to _only_ because she didn’t want to argue with him about it every day, and had nothing to do with wanting to spend more time with him. 

Her mind drifted back to her last memories of the night, and a faint blush rose to her cheeks when she realized that she must have fallen asleep while Aang was telling his story, and that he must have carried her to bed. It was a little embarrassing, but she couldn’t keep hiding in the bedroom, so she finally got to her feet and padded out into the living room. 

Mai froze, mid-yawn, when she caught sight of a shirtless Aang making tea in the kitchen. She supposed he must have been shirtless when he had come to sit with her by the window, but it had been dark and she hadn’t been paying attention. And even though she definitely didn’t like him, and was only here out of necessity…well, there was nothing wrong with _looking,_ she supposed.

Aang moved confidently around the kitchen, stretching up to snag a couple of mugs from a high shelf in a very appealing way. Her eyes traced down the blue streak that usually disappeared in the back of his tunic. Now, she could see it crawling straight down, between his broad shoulders, interrupted by an dramatic red scar that spiderwebbed across his back. That was Azula’s work, Mai realized. She had killed him, and Mai had celebrated the Avatar’s death with the royal family at the palace.

She glanced away, no longer enjoying the view.

Aang, unaware of her scrutiny, was now in the final stages of pouring two cups of tea. He spun around to bring the mugs to the table and finally saw her. “Good morning!” he beamed, and Mai was reminded of their first morning together, after the wedding. It was strange now, thinking how she had invited him over for wine on a drunken whim. She hadn’t known much about him out of the context of him being a friend of Zuko’s. She knew him much better now. She knew that he didn’t really like black tea, but would drink it if someone else offered it to him. She knew that he hummed songs that were a century old, and that he never got cold, and that he named the spider that lived in the corner of the ceiling in her office. It was a stunning revelation to realize that, in the weeks he had been staying here, he had become her best friend in the city.

That was far too heavy of an insight to have first thing in the morning, so she sat down at the table and accepted the tea without a word, knowing that Aang would assume her surliness came from waking up early. He settled in the chair across the table from her. “How’d you sleep?”

“Good. Really good, actually,” Mai admitted. 

“Are you working today?”

“Yes.” The idea of going to work, the morning after being attacked in her home and moving back into the palace, was absolutely ridiculous. But that was life, she supposed.

“Oh.” A pause while Aang took a sip of tea. “Do you have to go right now?” His tone was hesitant, and Mai was again reminded of that first morning together, when she had kicked him out of the apartment so she could get ready.

Something in her warmed, and her tone softened. “No, not right now.” She met Aang’s eyes and his delighted grin, and thought that yes, she could spare some time this morning for him.

* * *

Aang hadn’t particularly wanted to sit in the interrogation of the Phoenix Authority members, but he considered it part of his Avatar duties to hear them out and figure out what they wanted. It was early evening, the four men having spent the day resting and being healed. Zuko treated prisoners very different than his father had. Where previously, the men would have been interrogated in chains in a cell, they were now in a small, warm room, sitting across from the first man at a table. The only indication that this was an interrogation was that the man had both his wrists chained to his chair. 

The man, who gave his name as Yusei, was surprisingly careless with his information. The reason for that became clear: he didn’t know anything about the inner workings of the organization, and so he had no useful information to give. Zuko and Katara asked question after question, from every possible angle, and the man shrugged them all off. He had joined the Phoenix Authority through a friend of a friend because he thought Zuko was an embarrassment of a Fire Lord (a fact he took grotesque pleasure in throwing right in said Fire Lord’s face). He had received a note to go to Mai’s apartment, and that he would meet up with three other men. They were to take Mai, leave a note, and bring her to an address. Zuko immediately sent a scout to that address, but Yusei snorted derisively. It went to an abandoned building owned by the city, whoever they were supposed to meet with their captive would be long gone by now, leaving nothing useful behind.

Something about the instructions bothered Aang. “Why go after Mai?” 

“Daichi recognized her when the two of you attacked him,” Yusei explained. “She was with the Fire Lord at his trial.” His tone turned mocking, his lip curling into a sneer. “We didn’t expect her to be with the Avatar though. I guess she has a type.”

Both Aang and Zuko took a threatening step forward. Katara grabbed each of them by a shoulder and tugged them back, like they were misbehaving children. “Control yourselves,” she murmured. Aang’s hands were curling into fists, and he reminded himself that, whatever their intentions were, none of the men had actually hurt Mai. Speaking about her disrespectfully was not worthy of a reprisal, no matter how much it angered him.

The rest of the interrogations passed the same way. Four random men who joined a rebellion because they were unhappy with Zuko. Four men who knew Daichi’s name, but not where he was or what his overall plan was. Four men who had never met before the previous night, who had been instructed to kidnap the woman in the apartment and leave a ransom note behind. Four men who had been drastically misinformed about said woman’s fighting ability.

Four men who had spent the day getting their concussions healed.

The last prisoner was led away, and, like a puppet whose strings had been cut, Aang slumped down in his chair. Katara put a comforting hand on his back. “We’ll figure this out. Mai is staying with you, right?” There was none of that teasing in her tone, which Aang appreciated.

“Yeah. She should be back from work by now.” The interrogations had lasted longer than any of them had thought, and the sun had set at least an hour ago.

“So she’s in the safest place she can be,” Katara said matter-of-factly.

“I’ll post more guards around your quarters too,” Zuko added, stretching and poorly stifling a yawn. At Aang’s annoyed look, he sighed. “Don’t worry, I’ll make sure they aren’t suffocating you or following you everywhere. Just to have a few more eyes on the windows and door.” Aang supposed he could live with that.

“I’m going to update Mai on all of this. Do you mind if we skip dinner tonight? I think we’d rather just eat in the room.” Aang clambered to his feet, feeling everyone one of his hundred and twenty two years. The couple nodded, and they stepped out into the hallway. Aang gave them a glum wave goodbye before taking off. Zuko and Katara watched him go with matching expressions of concern, but eventually they made their way to their own room.

* * *

Zuko was exhausted. Truthfully, he was always exhausted, but he felt exceptionally drained now. He flopped down in his favorite chair in their room, tilting his head back to allow Katara to remove his crown and comb her fingers through his hair. When she walked past him on the way to her own seat, he reached out and captured her by her wrist, pulling her onto his lap. She came willingly, lightly kissing him on the temple at the edge of his scar before he buried his face in her neck. They sat quietly like that for a minute; him breathing in her familiar scent, her soothingly stroking the back of his neck. Finally, he reclined back in the chair, Katara loosely draped across his torso, her head on his shoulder. 

“I can’t believe Mai got tangled up in this,” Zuko sighed.

“You can’t possibly blame yourself for this.” 

Zuko scoffed. “Watch me.” He settled further back in the chair. “Although I do kind of blame Aang too.”

“Hey!” Katara sat up, looking at him reproachfully. 

“No, that’s not…I don’t mean anything bad by that.” He really didn’t; Zuko had nothing but love and respect for Aang. “But Mai has her own life now. She was safe. And now…” he trailed off, because she was decidedly _not_ safe now.

Katara hummed, lying back down against his chest. “Maybe she doesn’t want to be safe,” she suggested. “You have to admit, she’s pretty dangerous. Maybe she wanted to get involved.”

Zuko couldn’t argue with that, but he didn’t have to like it. The way his relationship with Mai had gone was still one of his biggest sources of guilt. His first few years as Fire Lord were challenging, and he had been overwhelmed by his responsibility to not only the Fire Nation, but the world. It was only now, a decade later, that he could truly appreciate having had Mai to help him, and how ungrateful he had been for her at the time. He loved Katara more than anything, and he didn’t think that it would have worked with Mai in the long term. But that didn’t mean that he didn’t care about her and want her to be happy. 

“Still. I don’t know why he thought of her to help, out of everybody he knows in the city,” he grumbled. 

Katara gave him an arch look. “You don’t?”

Zuko got the feeling he was missing something. “No? I didn’t think they were that close.”

“Oh, Zuko,” she mockingly patted him on the cheek. “I love you, but you are _so_ oblivious.”

He rolled his eyes. “Alright, what super obvious thing am I missing now?”

“Aang likes Mai.”

“What?” Zuko exclaimed. “No he doesn’t.”

Katara raised an eyebrow. “Why do you think he goes to see her multiple times every day?”

“Well…wait, is it really every day?”

“She’s staying in his _room,_ Zuko. We have enough guest bedrooms here for her to have one for every day of the week, and she’s staying in his room that only has the one bed.”

“That…is a very good point, actually.”

“And what did you think Yusei meant when he said that Mai has a type?”

“Honestly, I had no idea.”

“Then why did you get so upset about it?”

“The way he said it sounded really insulting.”

Katara snickered at that while Zuko considered the wild news that she had just dumped on him. He had noticed that Aang and Mai seemed friendly on this trip, but he had had no idea that it had gone that far. The couple seemed unconventional to him, but he trusted Katara’s intuition. 

“Do you think she likes him?” Katara asked clearly trying to sound casual.

“I’m not sure. But I know we’re going to leave them alone to figure it out themselves, right?” 

“I know, I was going to,” Katara pouted. 

Zuko caught something in her tone and grinned. “You’ve already written to Toph about it, haven’t you?”

“…Maybe.”

He laughed and kissed her on the nose. She returned the gesture, then stood up. “Let’s hope they figure it out before we’re driven out of the city,” he said nonchalantly as she pulled him up out of the chair. Katara hummed in agreement as she led them to their private dining room, where dinner was waiting for them. Zuko still didn’t quite know how he felt about the Aang and Mai news. He supposed he wasn’t too surprised that Aang would develop feelings for Mai. He had never been very cautious with his heart, and there was something about Mai that fascinated and enticed people. Something about how captivating it was to be around someone who genuinely didn’t care what other people thought of her. He had no idea if Mai would return those feelings, but he hoped so. If there was one person who would treat Mai the way she deserved, it would be the Avatar.

* * *

They had gotten into a routine in the morning. Aang woke up before her every day and made tea, and ensured that there was something for her to eat for breakfast. They would relax around the dining room table for about 20 minutes, then Mai would go get dressed in the bedroom. They would finish getting ready in the washroom together, each standing in front of their own mirror. Aang shaved his head every morning, while Mai washed her face and did her hair. It was a nice routine, as long as Mai didn’t think too hard about how domestic it was. It made sense, for two people living together, to have a schedule, she told herself. That was it.

This morning, Mai was absentmindedly brushing her hair, brain still fogged over from sleep. 

“Do you want me to do that?” A voice spoke from behind her, and she realized that Aang had finished shaving and was standing over her shoulder. 

“Hmm?” she hummed distractedly. “Do what?”

“I can do your hair.” There was a faint hint of red on his cheeks. “If you want.” 

She craned her head over her shoulder to squint at him, but supposed there wasn’t any harm in it. It meant she didn’t have to start thinking about her appearance quite yet. “Okay,” she said, handing over the brush. He gathered her long, straight hair in his hands, gently running the brush across it. Any knots he encountered were carefully worked out, without tugging on her scalp. She closed her eyes, trying to guess what he was doing without looking at him in the mirror. She felt him divide her hair into sections and begin braiding, first on one side then the other.

“Done!” He announced a few minutes later, sounding pleased. Mai opened her eyes and turned her head back and forth, examining his work. Of course, it was perfect. A braid started at each temple, curling around her head like a crown. The plaits met in the middle and continued in a singular glossy braid down her back. He had left a few pieces of hair in the front out to artfully frame her face. Truthfully, it was the best her hair had looked in a long time.

“How are you so good at everything?” she pondered out loud, somewhat resentful. “You don’t even have hair.”

Aang laughed, not in the least put off by her grouchy tone. “I’m the Avatar, it’s part of the job.”

It seamlessly became a part of their morning rituals. While she sat in front of the mirror to wash and moisturize her face, Aang would brush and style her hair. He never really seemed to have a plan, but somehow, she always liked the result. One day, she found that he had recreated her hairstyle from when they were teenagers: the top half of her hair pulled into two buns, the rest left flowing over her shoulders. She gave him a quizzical look, and he shrugged. 

“I like it,” he said, and didn’t elaborate further. She scrutinized herself in the mirror. She could remember tying her hair up like this every day. There was no particular reason that she had stopped, but her life had changed and her appearance changed with it. She was no longer a teenager in a war zone, or the future Fire Lady. Still, for whatever reason, she didn’t mind wearing her hair like this now. Maybe enough time had passed that it didn’t make her feel like a child again.

* * *

“Oooh, Mai, I like your hair!” Rika cooed when the cataloguer walked past her desk in the morning. With very little to entertain her at work, Rika had been puzzling over Mai’s hair for the past week. While the other woman was generally always neat and put together, she had started coming in with professionally-styled hair. It baffled the receptionist; nothing that she knew about Mai made her think that she was the type to go to a salon first thing in the morning. Especially not every day. 

Mai simply inclined her head, but didn’t say anything, so Rika kept probing. “Did you get it done at that new place downtown?”

“No, Aang did it this morning.” Rika gaped, like the wind had physically been knocked out of her. 

“What?” she wheezed, but Mai was already gone, having hurried down the stairs to her office. Rika snatched a piece of paper and began scribbling a message to her friend Chiyo, who worked down in the archives. The poor thing was locked away in that dark, creepy space, and they had taken to using the museums pneumatic tube communication system to send notes to each other. Lately, their gossip had been exclusively about Mai and her mysterious relationship with the Avatar. It had gotten a bit stale, as weeks went by without anything new to report. The Avatar came to take Mai to lunch almost every day, Mai insisted that they weren’t dating, the Avatar flirted with Rika but it never went anywhere. But him styling her hair, presumably every morning? For a week?

Rika finished her note, addressed it to Chiyo, and sent it off. She sank back into her chair, mind buzzing over the new development. And here she had thought it would be another boring day in the office.

* * *

Katara had known instantly, from the second she saw Aang and Mai hand-in-hand, running out of the banquet hall at her wedding like a couple of rebellious teenagers. She had been baffled to say the least, by the unlikely pairing. The more suspicious parts of her brain considered that this might be some ploy to try to get revenge on her and Zuko, but she had shaken those thoughts away. While she didn’t know that much about Mai (the two had only ever exchanged formal pleasantries), she knew that Aang would never intentionally do anything cruel or out of revenge. She was _very_ aware of Aang’s propensity to fall for people much too soon, and she privately hoped that both of would be careful.

As time went on, it became more and more apparent that this wasn’t one of Aang’s quick flings. Though she was dying to talk to Aang about it, she had learned over the years that it was better to wait for people to come to her for advice than to dish it out unsolicited. And so she waited. 

And waited. 

And waited. 

She had been positive that, once Mai moved in with Aang in the palace that the airbender would finally break, but still nothing. He artfully dodged around her queries and sly glances, refusing to ask for her opinion. And so Katara sat back and watched. She had no idea how Mai could miss the rapt, adoring way that Aang would stare at her. Katara still fondly remembered when he used to look at her like that; it felt like the sun was shining for you, and only for you.

The protective part of Katara worried that Mai was stringing Aang along, to the point where she got angry if she thought about it too long. Aang was, without a doubt, the best person that Katara knew, and it wasn’t fair on him if Mai didn’t appreciate him. She brought up her concerns to Zuko, who would simply shrug and say that just because Mai didn’t wear her heart on her sleeve didn’t mean she didn’t have one. Which was _not_ the point that Katara was trying to make, but Zuko was adamant that he had no insight into what Mai was thinking. 

And so, Katara waited.

One afternoon, having had one of her meetings cancelled last minute, Katara decided to seek out Aang and see if he wanted to spar. She checked for him in his room (well, ‘his and Mai’s room,’ because they were _living together_ ), but it was empty. She wandered across the grounds, knowing that Aang preferred to be outside more often than not. A couple of figures lounging on the grass caught her eye, and she slowed, hidden from view by a hedge.

Aang was laying on his back on the grass, with Mai sitting next to him, pulling pieces of grass from the lawn and sprinkling them over Aang’s face. Aang had his lips pursed and was gently blowing the blades of grass in a lazy vortex in the air. As Katara watched, Aang inhaled, accidentally sucking the grass directly into his mouth. He sat bolt upright, coughing and hacking dramatically, and Mai was…

Mai was…

Katara had never seen it before, and if somebody described it to her afterwards she wouldn’t have believed them, but Mai was _giggling._ A high-pitched, girlish giggle, barely dampened by the hand she had placed over her mouth. If Katara weren’t spying she would still have been speechless as the normally taciturn woman slapped Aang on the back a few times, trying to ask if he was okay through her hysterics. Aang finally managed to clear his throat and rasped, “That was not my best idea.” 

“Implying that you ever have good ideas,” Mai’s mocking words were in contrast to her tender gaze as she brushed the rest of the grass off Aang’s shoulders. Aang had his head down, trying to refill his lungs, and by the time he looked back up Mai had schooled her expression back to its usual detachment. Katara finally crept away, vindicated. _If Mai isn’t stupid in love too, I’ll eat my crown,_ she thought smugly as she silently made her way back into the palace.

* * *

_Sugar Queen,_

_Keep the updates COMING! I still can’t believe Twinkle Toes and Gloomy are a thing. Our boy is dumber than a pile of rocks though, I bet you five gold pieces he doesn’t make a move for a year._

_\- Toph_

_P.S. My beautiful, wonderful girlfriend says hi, and that she can’t wait to meet you!_

_P.P.S. That last post script was unauthorized, and Jia has had her scribe privileges revoked._

* * *

_Toph,_

_You underestimate Aang. Five gold pieces they get together by the end of fall._

_\- Katara_

_P.S. Tell your scribe we can’t wait to meet her either!_

* * *

“Thanks, you’re a life-saver!” Kohei gushed as Mai presented him with a refurbished and rebound book. “This book is over 200 years old, I thought it was a goner after those merchants kept it in a leaking crate for six months.”

“You’re welcome,” Mai replied, already turning her attention to her schedule to see what else she had to do today. To be honest, she genuinely liked restoring old books, but this one had been exhausting. It had come to her in ruins, having sat in an inch of sea water for half a year. Bringing it back to life had occupied much of her work time the past few weeks. It didn’t help that Kohei, the historian that had bought it, had taken to stopping by her office every day to check on the book’s progress. He seemed interested in the painstaking process of peeling the pages apart, drying them out, removing mold and brightening the text so it was legible again. He was nice enough, but it was a little difficult for Mai to concentrate with him hovering on the other side of her desk, and she was grateful to get some peace and quiet on her next project.

Mai glanced up from her planner to see that Kohei was still standing there, fidgeting awkwardly, his fingers tapping on the cover of the book. “Did you need anything else?” she asked carefully, hoping to prompt him to spit it out or leave.

“No? Yes! Well…” he sputtered, turning bright red. “I guess I was just, uh, wondering…is that guy that comes here all the time your boyfriend?”

It took a second for Mai to register that he was inquiring about Aang. “No, he’s not.”

Kohei’s entire demeanor changed. A big grin spread across his face, and he stood up a little straighter. “Oh! Cool! I mean, not cool, he seems nice. But when I asked around, nobody seemed to know—”

“You were asking around?” Mai interrupted, her deadpan tone not giving away how she felt about that. It was flattering, she supposed, and Kohei was sweet, but he wasn’t really her type. 

“Yeah! Well, not in a weird way, just in like, a normal conversation.” Kohei was saved from further explanation by a knock at the door, followed by Aang sticking his head into the office.

“Hey! Are you ready to go? Zuko pointed out a new noodle place I wanted to try—” he paused, finally noticing that Mai wasn’t alone. “Oh, hi!” he greeted brightly, stepping fully into the room and giving a short bow. “I’m Aang.”

Kohei eagerly returned the bow, apparently only just now recognizing Mai’s frequent visitor. “The Avatar! It’s an honor to meet you. I’m Kohei, I work here at the museum with Mai.”

“Well aren’t you lucky,” Aang drawled. “I hope you guys aren’t working too hard. It’s important to still have fun.”

“Ha, too right!” Kohei glanced at the clock on the wall behind Mai and sighed. “Unfortunately, I should be going, I was supposed to get this to my boss before noon.” As he walked past Mai, he reached out one hand to brush his fingers against her elbow. “I’ll see you around, thank you again.” He bobbed his head cheerfully at Aang, awkwardly squeezed by the taller man to reach the door, then took off down the hallway at a brisk walk. 

Aang turned back to Mai, looking suspiciously amused. “Lunch?”

They made it halfway through their meal before Aang paused, lacing his fingers together in a ledge that he could prop his chin on. “So when are you going to put that poor guy out of his misery and go on a date with him?”

Mai didn’t look up from her current task of searching through her broth for the last pieces of fried tofu with her chopsticks. “What are you talking about?”

“That guy! Kohei. He’s definitely into you.”

“You can tell that from meeting him for thirty seconds, huh?”

“Yes! Also, I’ve seen him lurking around your office door before.”

That was news to Mai. Regardless, she didn’t really feel like discussing her dating life with Aang. “Doesn’t matter, I’m not interested.”

“Why not?”

Spirits, what was _happening?_ Mai had no idea why he was pushing this now, when they were eating in a restaurant and she had to go back to work in fifteen minutes. She cast about for a good enough reason not to go out Kohei. “I don’t date coworkers.”

“Why not?”

Mai audibly groaned. “Because when you break up it makes your job harder. I try to date Kohei, and the next thing you know the only work I get is transcribing ancient Fire Nation grocery lists until I die.”

Aang chuckled. “So pessimistic! What if you don’t break up?”

Mai snorted. “Unlikely. The men here are…” she took a minute to think of the right adjective. “Boring.”

“Well that’s not fair, you think everything’s boring,” Aang said dryly.

“I mean, they want girlfriends who agree with everything they say and only care about running the household staff. You have to be well-read enough to seem smart, but not enough to have any real opinions on anything. And Agni help you if you try to have a real discussion or argument.” Mai didn’t mean to sound so bitter, but to be fair, Aang had brought up the topic.

The airbender, shocked by her tirade, frowned. “You’re right, that does sound boring.”

Desperate to redirect the conversation, Mai said, “Anyway, when are you going to date Rika? She’s been bothering me about you for the past month.”

“Has she now?” Aang laughed. “Probably never. I don’t really date.”

“That’s not what I’ve heard,” Mai muttered as she popped the last square of tofu into her mouth.

Aang looked confused for a second, then seemed to understand what she was hinting at. “Right! Well, I mean, sex doesn’t really count as dating.” He was completely unabashed discussing the topic in public. Meanwhile Mai, who had never considered herself very prudish, found herself ducking her head and hunching her shoulders, trying to hide the flush that was creeping up her face. 

“No?” she asked, trying to hide how puzzling that statement was to her.

“Not really.” He shrugged. “If everybody knows that it’s casual, then it’s just a couple of people having fun. Very different from being compatible with someone and making a real connection.”

Mai didn’t really think she understood, but she was also eager to move the conversation along. She supposed she could ask why Aang didn’t just sleep with Rika then, but she didn’t want to go putting ideas into anyone’s head. “So you don’t think your…compatible? With people?” Which was an insane question, because Aang got along with everybody, and everybody liked him. 

He grew pensive, staring down into his mostly empty bowl of noodles. “No, that’s not it.” He paused, searching for the right words. “At some point, every village runs out of Avatar problems, and I have to move on. So the only options are for someone to sit around and wait for me to come back, or join me. And most people don’t want to drop everything to travel around the world with someone they’ve just met.” Aang’s tone didn’t grow bitter the way that Mai’s had when she was talking about her dating life; rather, he sounded sad, wistful. Mai tried to imagine making a connection with someone, knowing that you would be gone the next week, and asking them to come with you.

“They were stupid,” she said absently. Aang looked up at her, raising his eyebrows. “I mean, to turn down traveling the world. I miss doing that.” He was getting a weird expression on his face, and Mai was incredibly out of her comfort zone, so she veered back into more well-trodden territory. “Maybe they were just sick of you.”

Aang childishly stuck his tongue out at her. “Rude. I thought you were done being mean to me.”

Mai considered that, then reached across the table with her chopsticks to steal a chunk of tofu from Aang’s bowl. “Not yet.”

* * *

All it had taken was for Mai to casually mention that there was a bakery in a town just outside the city that she hadn’t been to in a few years. That was all it took for Aang to, in an embarrassingly short amount of time, rearrange his afternoon plans, call Appa, and have the bison fly them over to the town. Mai had rolled her eyes and insisted that she hadn’t meant that they go _right now_ , but it was worth it to see the excited look on her face when they swooped down just outside the village. 

It wasn’t long before they found the lauded bakery, and to come out each holding taiyaki, Aang having declared a fish-shaped cake to be acceptable vegetarian fare. They took their time wandering through the market, stopping every so often in shops that caught their eye. Aang was thinking about a way that he could buy a necklace that Mai had been lingering over without it being weird when Mai stopped dead in her tracks. Aang was about to ask what was wrong, but a second later he saw it.

Well, not it. Her.

Aiya was doing an admirable job of going incognito, but there was no way to hide her height and build. Towering a head above the crowd milling around the market, the Yuyan archer had a large cloak draped over her form, hiding the armory of weapons she likely had on her. She had a wide-brimmed straw hat tilted down over her face, which couldn’t fully hide the red tattoos across her eyes. 

Without a word, Aang and Mai simultaneously ducked down behind a food cart. It didn’t appear that Aiya had seen them; the archer was still looking over the produce that a local farmer had set out. The farmer nervously waited for her to pick out an apple, then waved away the coin that she offered, a fake smile plastered across his face. Aiya moved on without acknowledging his charity, the farmer exhaling in relief as she walked away. Aang and Mai exchanged a glance, then began following Aiya, sticking close to the buildings to stay out of view. 

Having apparently finished her shopping, Aiya walked purposefully down the street, creating a ripple in the crowd as people instinctively got out of her way. She paused at an intersection, giving Aang a moment to whisper to Mai. “Maybe Daichi and the others are nearby.”

Mai considered that. “It makes sense, they’d want to get out of Caldera City once they knew they were exposed.” Aiya started to walk again, so they melted back into the shadows to follow.

Aang started to get suspicious when Aiya turned down a dark alley, devoid of any other people. He peeked around the corner of the alley to see the archer whip off her cloak and turn to face them, her bow already nocked in her hands. Aang pulled his face back just in time to avoid getting shot through the eye. The arrow hadn’t even buried itself in the wall behind them before Mai grabbed his hand and pulled him back the way they had come, dodging around other shoppers. Aang dug through his pocket as they ran, triumphantly extracting his bison whistle. He blew on it as hard as he could, hoping Appa was still close enough to hear it.

“What’s that going to do?” Mai panted, clearly not impressed with the silent whistle.

“You’ll see. We need to get higher.” Aang chanced a look over his shoulder to see Aiya barreling after them. Whatever moral code she followed apparently didn’t allow for her to fire wildly into civilians, so she hadn’t loosed another arrow. Still, Aang didn’t want to put other people’s lives at risk. He bounded upwards, one foot kicking off an awning to give him the momentum to get onto the roof. Mai was close behind, only taking a few extra jumps to catch up. Aang couldn’t help but yell when he saw the familiar shadow of Appa passing by overhead. The bison circled above them, growling as an arrow bounced off the thick, leathery skin on his stomach. It wasn’t safe for him to get any lower, so they would have to meet him up there.

“Ready?” was all the warning Aang gave before he clutched Mai around the waist and bent them up in the air, wind whistling past them as the ground receded behind them. They reached the peak of the jump and had a few seconds of gut-churning free fall before Appa caught them on his back. Aang peered over the side of the saddle to see Aiya staring up at them, an arrow ready on her bow but still in her hands. Appa turned to carry them back to the capitol, and Mai collapsed next to him on edge of the saddle, her eyes glittering with exhilaration. Giddy with relief and the thrill you could only get narrowly escaping death with someone, Aang laughed.

“So, who gets to tell Zuko?”

* * *

Mai and Zuko were lounging on the ground, watching Katara and Aang spar. The two benders were standing waist-deep in the shallow end of a beautiful marble pool that had been built specifically for waterbending. It was oppressively hot, the humidity plastering Mai’s hair to her sweat-drenched skin. She was slowly fanning herself with the book she had brought out to read, before she had been distracted by the battle. It was fascinating to watch the waterbenders, their movements flowing more like a dance than a fight. She found her eyes drawn to Aang more often than not. He was shirtless and soaking wet, and the water that beaded on his skin reflected the sunlight, making him glitter like a jewel. It was _very_ eye-catching.

It was also the least tense she and Zuko had been in years. Mai had been a little hesitant to go watch the training session, afraid that sitting alone with Zuko in the sun would be unbearably awkward. But they were both relaxed, flopped on the stone patio in the shade of a large awning. They were mostly quiet, but it was a companionable silence, focused as they were on the bending display. Zuko leaned towards her makeshift fan, and she obligingly began flapping it so that it would fan him as well. 

The battle had already been raging almost an hour, and Mai had no idea who was winning. Finally, Katara drew her hands up, in a move that, from what Mai could tell, sent a sheet of ice down through the liquid water to settle under Aang’s feet. Not expecting the sudden change in terrain, Aang slipped, which was apparently what Katara had been hoping for. In a flash, she brought the ice sheet up and tipped Aang onto his back, then secured both his hands and feet to the bottom of the pool with ice. The move left Aang lying on his back with his entire body, including his face, submerged. He struggled for a moment, then relaxed. Taking that as him admitting defeat, Katara released him, and he burst up out of the water, already laughing.

“That was amazing! You have to teach me that!” Aang shouted enthusiastically.

While the two waterbenders chattered amicably about the match, Mai stood up to head back into the blissfully cool palace. 

“Where do you think you’re going?” Aang called out. He had made his way into the deeper end of the pool, and he was propped up on his elbows at the pool’s edge. Zuko had taken his shirt off and hopped into the pool, swimming over to join Katara.

“Inside. It’s way too hot out here,” she answered, continuing to fan herself with her book.

Aang hauled himself out of the pool (Mai glanced away, knowing that she would be caught ogling, and that he would get way too smug about it) and strolled over to her. His movements were deliberately relaxed, in a way that made Mai wary. “I think there’s a faster way to cool off,” he said mischievously. 

Mai’s eyes narrowed. “Don’t you dare—” was all she got out. Quick as a flash, Aang snatched the book from her hand and threw it on the grass. Then he picked her up around her waist and twirled her around, slinging her into the pool. Mai gasped at the sudden shock of the cold water, but she had to admit that it was wonderfully refreshing after baking in the sun all afternoon. 

Still, such an act of betrayal called for retaliation.

She swam over to the side of the pool, grabbing onto it so she could glare at Aang. He was laughing, but it petered out when he saw her expression. Katara and Zuko, who had also started to giggle, quieted down as well, exchanging nervous looks.

“What—Are you really mad?” Aang frowned, kneeling down next to her, leaning over the side of the pool. “I’m sorry, that was too far, I—”

That was as far into the apology that Mai let him get before she reared up out of the water to grab both of his arms, tugging him down into the pool with her. He fell in with a shout, long arms and legs comically flailing in the air. Katara was laughing so hard that she had to hold onto Zuko to keep from falling over. Aang surfaced, sputtering with exaggerated rage.

“Traitor! Fiend! Villain! See if I ever apologize to you for anything ever again.” 

“You should know better than to let your guard down like that,” Mai replied dryly. Her clothes were beginning to weigh her down, especially her loose long-sleeved shirt. She peeled it off and bunched it up in a ball, tossing it out of the pool where it landed on the marble with a satisfying _smack._ Aang was definitely eying her, now clad only in her chest binding and pants, but considering she had been doing the same to him all afternoon she let it slide. She swam past him, making sure to splash him with a kick as she went by, which started a splash fight. The waterbenders promptly teamed up and cheated, dousing Zuko and Mai until the Fire Nation duo surrendered. Mai couldn’t remember the last time she went swimming. She certainly never went swimming like this, goofing off with other people her age like they were reckless teenagers. _Friends,_ she reminded herself, her inner voice derisive. _People your age you go swimming with are called friends._

Eventually, they dragged themselves out of the pool. Exhausted from the heat and the exercise, the four of them lazed out in the sun like scorpion-lizards, having wordlessly decided to dry their clothes the natural way rather than use bending. Mai was sitting cross-legged, propping herself up on her arms behind her. Aang had unceremoniously dropped down with his head in her lap, at an angle that her torso blocked his eyes from the sun. She flicked at his nose, but otherwise didn’t complain about the arrangement. Closing her eyes, she let her mind drift away in the stifling air.

She heard giggling next to her, which broke her out of her reverie. Turning to the source, Mai realized that Katara and Zuko were in the same position, his head resting on her lap. Katara was twisting wet strands of his long hair around her fingers then draping them across his face. Zuko angled his head back, and Katara bent down to kiss him, the two smiling beatifically as their lips met.

Mai abruptly felt cold and uncomfortable. Her still-damp clothing clung to her skin, especially where Aang’s head was pressing the fabric into her legs. She jumped to her feet, Aang’s head hitting the stone with a painful-sounding _thunk._

“Ow,” he groused, sitting up and rubbing the back of his head where it had banged against the marble. “Are you okay?”

Mai couldn’t articulate exactly why she was suddenly so ill at ease. “I’m fine,” she snapped. “I just remembered, I was supposed to stop by my apartment today. Kayda was doing some research, and I have a scroll that I thought could help her.” It wasn’t entirely a lie; her coworker had asked to borrow the scroll on Earth Kingdom mining practices, but it wasn’t something she had to get right away. 

“Do you want me to come with you?” Aang asked helpfully, starting to get to his feet. 

“No, it’s fine. I’m going to change really quick and then head over.” She hurried back into the palace, and missed both Aang’s wounded expression, and the shrewd glance that Katara and Zuko exchanged.

* * *

Aang knew that he was helplessly, stupidly, head-over-heels in love with Mai when he came across her sitting in the grass next to Appa’s stable, diligently cutting moon peaches in half and removing the pits. She had a pile of about thirty peaches that she was going through, the halved fruits getting tossed into a basket. Appa was lying in the grass next to her, pretending to sleep. He looked relaxed, but every few seconds one of his eyes would open and he would evaluate Mai’s progress before closing it again. 

“What are you doing?” he asked, sprawling on the grass next to her.

Mai looked up. “I’m cutting out the pits so Appa won’t choke,” she explained, as though it were common sense and he was the one being irrational. 

The gesture was so astonishingly sweet that Aang couldn’t speak. He could have told here that Appa would never be able to choke on something as small as a moon peach pit, or that he had once seen the bison swallow an abandoned Fire Nation soldier’s helmet without a problem, or that Appa regularly swallowed rocks the size of a human head to help him grind up the plants he ate. Instead, all he said was, “Appa’s a lucky bison.” 

Mai gave him a half smile, then returned her focus to the peach in her hand. After deftly removing the pit with a twist of her knife, she offered one of the halves to Aang. He accepted it, staring at her as she bit into her half of the peach. A shiver went down his spine as he watched her trace her tongue up her forearm, chasing a droplet of juice that had spilled down from her hand. _Oh man,_ his inner voice said sympathetically. _You’re doomed._

* * *

Mai rarely let herself admit that maybe her feelings for Aang weren’t completely platonic. It was usually the quiet moments, when it was just the two of them. The first time was when he had hobbled into their room, looking guilty. Mai’s gaze was drawn down to the foot that he was favoring, which was red and swollen and bleeding a little. She waited.

“Sooooooo,” he started. “I might have been goofing off around the cactus garden…”

Mai couldn’t help it; she burst into laughter. Aang looked a little affronted that she was reacting to his misfortune with such glee, although even he couldn’t help but crack a rueful grin. “I know, I’m an idiot. Can you help me get all the spines out? I can’t see my foot.”

They got situated with Aang laying on his back on the couch, his injured foot in Mai’s lap. The bottom of his foot was full of inch-long spines; he explained that he hadn’t been watching where he was landing and had stepped directly onto a dead cactus that had blended in with the soil. Mai was carefully pulling the thorns out with a pair of tweezers and dropping them in a bowl.

“Why don’t you have Katara or any of the other healers do this?” she asked, carefully working out a particularly long, hooked spine. “I’m sure they could do a better job than me.”

Aang winced as she pulled the spine out. “This is not my first cactus injury,” he admitted. “The healers make fun of me way more than you do.”

Mai shook her head and opened her mouth, then stiffened. She had been about to say, in a teasing tone, _”I love you, but you’re a moron.”_

The words turned to ash in her mouth.

_“I love you.”_

She shut her mouth so quickly that her teeth clacked together. Aang studied her as she quietly and quickly pulled the rest of the spines out, but he didn’t comment on her change in mood.

* * *

They only slept in the bed together once. A landslide had buried several acres of farmland, and Aang had gone to help clear the thousands of pounds of rocks and dirt so the farms could be re-tilled. He had returned late in the evening, completely shattered and covered head to foot in so much dust that Mai could barely see his tattoos. Before he could collapse on any of the furniture and spread the dust cloud, she marched him to the washroom and made him sit in the bath. His eyes were flickering shut, and Mai had a suspicion that if she left him alone he would either fall asleep in the empty tub, or try to fill it and drown himself. 

Her solution was a bucket of warm, soapy water and a towel. She had him strip down to his pants, then sat on the edge of the tub and gently wiped the dirt off his skin. A good portion of her energy went to working efficiently and _not_ lingering on the toned muscles of his arms, or the sharp planes of his back. The rest of her energy went to snapping her fingers in his face every time he drifted off, determined to keep him awake until he was clean. She found herself spending a lot of time on his hands, wrapping them one at a time in the towel and massaging them, making sure there was no dirt between his fingers. At one point, he tilted his head back against the edge of the tub and sighed, low and content. She was glad he had his eyes closed so he couldn’t see the fond smile that returned every time she wasn’t actively focusing on keeping it away.

Finally, she deemed him clean enough to exist in the rest of the apartment, and helped him out of the bath. She was, oddly enough, reminded of the night of the wedding, when she had practically carried him from the palace to her apartment. They were in a similar position now, one of his arms draped around her neck, her own arm tight around his waist. Her shoulders supported most of his weight, trying to ignore that his head was lolling dangerous close to hers. She led him to the bedroom for privacy and briskly shook him awake, instructing him to change into his pajamas. After waiting for him in the living room for ten minutes, she peeked into the bedroom to find that Aang had successfully kicked off his other pants and pulled his pajama pants on. That was about all he had accomplished; he was now laying across the bed, fast asleep. 

Mai lingered in the doorway, unsure of what she should do. Try to wake him up? Sleep out in the living room? Neither of those options really appealed to her, and she decided that if Aang didn’t want to share a bed with her, he shouldn’t have fallen asleep in hers. She slipped under the covers on the other side of the bed from where Aang had collapsed, curling up on her side and facing him. She watched him, feeling oddly voyeuristic but unable to look away. He was on his back with his head tilted towards her, one hand loosely curled up by his face. The sky blue of his tattoos was a welcome, cooling contrast to the harsh red of the bedspread.

His altruism astounded her. He had spent the past 20 hours helping people, probably with a smile on his face. She could see him now, standing out in a field buried in rubble, bending it away, refusing to take a break. When others faltered, he would take their place, unable to stop until the job was done. He had worked himself beyond exhaustion, and he would do it again tomorrow if they asked.

She thought about him slumping down in the tub, letting her clean him. She wondered how many other people he let help him.

Suddenly uncomfortable with her own staring, Mai quickly turned around so her back was to him. It had been a very long time since she had slept in a bed with someone else, and she was positive she would have a hard time falling asleep. To her surprise, she woke up the next morning feeling alert and well-rested. She looked over to the other half of the bed, only to find it empty. She was unsure if he had just woken up in the morning before her like usual, or if he had gotten up in the middle of the night to finish his rest in the living room. 

Aang was waiting for her in the kitchen with a bright smile and a cup of tea. Neither of them mentioned the bed.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Gotta love these soft idiots! 
> 
> Again, I’m terrible at replying to comments, because idk how to properly express my appreciation without sounding unhinged. But I love every single comment yall write, and I reread them all the time!


	7. I’m in love and you’ve got me, runaway

Mai was suspicious when she entered the living room and found Aang serenely drinking tea at the table. Something about his posture told her that he was waiting for her to get up, and it put her on edge. She cautiously approached the table, as one would approach a sabertooth moose-lion, and slid into her chair. “Good morning.”

“Good morning,” Aang nodded in greeting, far too calm and cool. Mai’s gaze landed on the plate in the middle of the table, piled high with fruit tarts. Her blood ran cold.

“Did you go out and buy those?” she asked, desperately hoping that she was wrong.

“Nope,” Aang answered. “Zuko sent them up to you.” He paused. “With a note.” Another pause. “That said ‘happy birthday.’” He finally met her eyes, a wicked grin spreading across his face. “Mai, is it your birthday?”

“No,” she lied, taking one of the fruit tarts and nibbling on it. It was very sweet of Zuko to remember her birthday, but she wasn’t feeling very grateful right now. She hadn’t intended on telling anybody about it, least of all Aang.

“Happy birthday!” Aang crowed, reaching for one of the tarts. Mai smacked his hand before he could touch the plate. “You’re 27 now, right?”

She didn’t know how he knew that, but she had long since stopped being surprised by the personal details that he picked up about her. “Yes.”

“Do you have any plans?”

“Work.”

“That’s it?”

“Yes.”

Aang pouted, temporarily halting his attempts to sneak one of the tarts away from her. “That’s no fun, I want to do something for your birthday.”

“You can do whatever you want, I’ll be at work.” Mai finally relented and pushed the plate towards Aang, who victoriously picked up one of the tarts. She didn’t believe for a second that she would actually get away with not celebrating her birthday, not now that Aang knew about it. 

“Can I at least get you a present?” Aang ventured. Mai gave him a threatening look. “That’s not fair! Zuko got to get you a present.”

“What would you get me for a present?”

Aang scrunched up his face in thought. “I’m not sure, I’ll have to think about it. You didn’t really give me a lot of notice.”

“ _I_ didn’t give you any notice.”

“Ugh, _fine,_ I’ll figure something out.” He pointed one of his fingers reproachfully in her direction. “Maybe I’ll see if I can buy you a better birthday attitude.”

A smile quirked at the corner of Mai’s mouth. “I don’t think you can afford that. How much does being the Avatar pay again?”

“I know you think being mean will make me give up on celebrating your birthday, but it won’t work.” Aang finished his tart and brushed the crumbs off his hands. “Let’s start with your hair.”

Mai groaned. “Aang, I woke up thirty seconds ago, do you have to do my hair right now?” She was aware of how petulant and spoiled she sounded, but she _really_ did not like her birthday. She had intended on having a perfectly normal day, which had been spoiled by Zuko before she had even woken up.

As usual, Aang responded to her hostility with his unflappable good-tempered attitude. “Yes, I have to do it now. I’m supposed to meet with Katara soon to talk about some of the trade deals between the Fire Nation and the South Pole. Which I could have done any other day, had I known it was your birthday today.” With that, Aang retrieved her hairbrush from the bathroom, then stood behind her and began gathering her loose hair between his hands. Mai automatically tipped her head back, eyes half-closed as his fingers scraped against the back of her neck. She had to admit, it felt very indulgent to be sitting at the dining room table, eating breakfast and drinking tea, while somebody brushed her hair.

“Where did you even learn how to do this?” she murmured, more to herself than to him. They very pointedly did not talk about the hair, but she was curious, and he had never brought it up.

Aang’s hands paused. “Oh. I used to braid Katara’s hair.” The soothing movement of the brush through her hair began again, not reflecting the hesitation in his voice. “When we were together.”

The implication of that hung in the silence between them before Aang hurriedly added, “But once everyone figured out I was good at it, they all wanted me to braid their hair. Toph, Zuko, Suki, even Sokka, when his hair got long enough.” Mai let out the breath she didn’t know she was holding.

Neither of them spoke for a few minutes, Aang diligently working on her hair and Mai equally diligently finishing the fruit tart. “So your meeting doesn’t have anything to do with the Phoenix Authority?” Mai asked, licking a bit of syrup from the corner of her mouth.

Aang sighed. “No, there’s still no word on them.” Zuko had briefly been invigorated by the news that Aiya was seen in a small town just outside the city, and had directed more of his spies to scour the neighboring villages. Unfortunately, that had led to dead end after dead end, and there was still no sign of Daichi. Nobody had seen him since Aang and Mai’s first run in with him. “Some other stuff has been getting neglected, so we’re working on not letting anything else fall too far behind.” 

“Since when are you involved in the inner workings of Fire Nation politics?” 

He hummed. “I’m not, really. I’m just helping to mediate, give an outsider’s perspective. I need something to do to entertain myself while you’re at work all day.” 

Before Mai could _begin_ to unpack that, he took a step back and announced, “Done!” Mai ran one hand over her hair to find that it had been bound in a complex of braids that twisted and overlapped across the back of her head. She got up to examine it closer in the bathroom mirror; it was impeccably done, and without a doubt the most elaborate hairstyle he had done for her so far. 

“What do you think?” Aang appeared in the doorway, his hands fidgeting against each other. Mai realized, somewhat amused, that he was nervous. As though there was any chance that she wouldn’t like it. 

“It’s amazing,” she said shyly. He beamed at her. “Can this count as my birthday present?”

Aang stepped forward, and Mai’s breath hitched as he folded one of her hands between his, looking her directly in the eye with a solemn expression. “No.”

Mai huffed and extricated her hand, using it to shove the now-giggling Avatar in the chest so she could walk past him and finish getting ready for work. She would die before she admitted it, but this was already the best birthday she had had in a long time.

* * *

“I don’t believe you,” Rika cooed in a sing-song voice.

“I don’t care,” Mai replied, her attention fully on the clipboard in her hands. One of their suppliers had dropped off a shipment of tools she used in the warehouse, and she was meticulously checking the invoice to make sure that everything had been delivered. The second it had been clear that Mai would be lingering by the front desk to complete this task, Rika had begun talking about her favorite subject.

“I’m just _saying_ , living with a guy is a big deal. There’s no way you two aren’t hooking up.”

“And yet we aren’t. One of life’s great mysteries.” Mai didn’t really dislike Rika, but her obsession with Aang was getting irritating. Invasive questions followed one after another, and Mai had no doubt that Rika was sharing the scant news that she got with her other friends in the museum. It didn’t help that she was firmly convinced that Mai was dating him, and yet still made sure to hit on him every chance she got. 

Suddenly, something slammed into Mai like an avalanche. She stumbled backwards, her arms pinned against her sides. 

“Happy birthday, Mai!” her attacker squealed, pulling back to reveal that it was Ty Lee. Mai blinked in surprise, unable to fully comprehend that her childhood friend was here, in the Fire Nation, on her birthday. She was soon joined by another assailant, who swept both women up in a bone-crushing hug.

“Ty Lee! Suki! What are you doing here?” Mai gasped, the tips of her toes barely scraping the ground as the brawny Kyoshi warrior squished her against Ty Lee. The couple finally stepped back to let Mai breathe. They were bare-faced and clad in plain Earth Kingdom clothes, rather than their elaborate uniforms and makeup. 

“What do you mean ‘what are we doing here’? It’s your birthday, we came to celebrate with you!” Ty Lee responded, as if it were logical that they would have traveled halfway across the world just for her birthday. They had never done it before; then again, they had never been away from the Fire Nation for so long. And since Mai didn’t leave Caldera City, it had been a few years since she had seen the couple.

“It’s your birthday?” Mai had completely forgotten about Rika, who was watching the reunion with wide, shrewd eyes. It was probably an odd sight for the receptionist, seeing the usually-reserved Mai being hugged and coddled. There was nobody else would be able to get away with it, but there was a special place in Mai’s heart for the pair, and not just because Mai had been friends with Ty Lee since they were toddlers. After Zuko’s coronation, a small contingent of the Kyoshi warriors had stayed in the palace, serving as guards to replace those who had been a little too devoted to Ozai. During that time, Mai had gotten to know Suki, both as the leader of the warriors who thwarted more than a few assassination attempts, and as the person that Ty Lee spent most of her time mooning over.

“Yes, technically,” Mai vaguely answered, not wanting to make a bigger deal out of it than it already was. 

“I’m Ty Lee, and this is my wife, Suki,” Ty Lee took the initiative to introduce them, knowing that Mai was unlikely to extend that social nicety. “We’re from Kyoshi Island, but we’ve known Mai _forever._ ” Ty Lee had slung an arm around Mai’s shoulders, as though she thought Mai would slip away if she let go of her.

“I’m Rika. It’s an honor to meet real Kyoshi warriors.” It was actually the most sincere Mai had ever heard Rika sound, but the warriors had gained quite an impressive reputation after the war. “And happy birthday, Mai. I can’t be _lieve_ you didn’t tell me!” Mai, who told Rika as little as possible, did not find it quite so unbelievable. 

“It’s an honor to meet you as well. I can’t believe you’re lucky enough to get to see our Mai every day,” Ty Lee replied, grabbing Mai’s chin in one hand to give her an overdramatic kiss on the cheek. Mai put one hand over Ty Lee’s face and pushed her away, ignoring the other woman’s giggling. That set Rika off as well, and not even Mai’s most venomous glare intimidated her into silencing her laughter.

“So, I assume you have planned absolutely nothing for this evening,” Suki said, not even bothering to make it a question.

Mai answered anyway. “No.”

“Great! So we’ll stop by your apartment at six to take you out to dinner.”

“Apartment? I thought Mai was staying in the palace with the Avatar?” 

Mai’s head snapped towards Rika, who was looking back at her with an expression of feigned innocence. Ty Lee and Suki shrieked, “ _What?!_ ”

“Not that it’s any of your business,” Mai directed that at all three women, but mostly towards Rika. “But it’s not what it sounds like.”

“Okay then, what is it?”

Mai, for once, was at a loss for words. “It’s...well...there’s this coup…” She stopped and took a deep breath. “A group of rebels is trying to oust Zuko, and Aang and I got caught spying on them. They tried to take me from my apartment, so I moved into the palace as a security measure.”

Ty Lee and Suki had matching incredulous expressions. “Okay...so why do you have to live with Aang?” Suki questioned, one eyebrow raised. “Doesn’t his room only have the one bed?”

Mai barely suppressed a groan as Rika’s jaw dropped. “What do you mean _there’s only one bed?_ ”

“Okay, everyone’s being a little dramatic.” Privately, Mai wondered how things had gotten out of hand so quickly. “The other guest rooms in the palace make me uncomfortable, and Aang is a friend. I sleep in the bed, and he sleeps on the couch in the living room.” Saying it all out loud made Mai begin to comprehend how ridiculously stupid her logic was, and how apparent it was that she had just wanted to spend more time with Aang. She didn’t even want to think about all the other lies she had been telling to herself.

“You sleep. In his bed.” Suki sounded like she was trying to keep her cool, but was failing miserably.

“Technically, but he’s not in it,” Mai countered, as though she had a leg to stand on.

“I didn’t realize it was such close quarters. I guess that explains why he braids your hair every morning.” Rika was very lucky that Mai wasn’t a firebender, because her and her desk would have been reduced to charcoal before she could finish her sentence. 

Ty Lee drew her fingertips over Mai’s braids, just now connecting the dots regarding her impeccably styled hair. “Of course, how could I have missed it? This is so Aang.” 

“Anyway,” Maid said loudly, pulling away from Ty Lee’s prying hands. “I have a ton of work to do today, so unless you want me to have to work overtime on my birthday, I suggest you find someone else to bother.”

“I’m sure we can manage that,” Suki said cheerfully, throwing a conspiratorial wink towards Rika. “We’re going to go see your palace husband now.”

Before Mai could object to the title, Suki was giving her a hug goodbye and heading for the door. Ty Lee trailed after her, though she did stop long enough to stage whisper, “You should probably run,” to Rika before she left. 

Now alone with the receptionist, Mai slowly turned until she could fix Rika with an icy stare. Much less confident without the support of the Kyoshi warriors, Rika babbled something about needing to check on an exhibit on the museum floor, and disappeared.

* * *

Katara and Aang were just finishing up their meeting when Zuko stopped by the office to let them know that Ty Lee and Suki were in the throne room. After a beat, they both leapt to their feet and charged down the hallway, sweeping past Zuko. Aang ignored Zuko’s shouting at the gusts of air that swirled around him whenever he ran and bolted down the hallway towards the throne room. He burst in through the large double doors, Katara a step behind, unable to believe his eyes at the two women waiting for him. Without preamble, both Aang and Katara shrieked, “Suki!” and threw themselves at the Kyoshi warrior, almost knocking her down. 

“I didn’t realize the Fire Nation was such a party spot, we would have come by sooner,” Suki laughed, managing to regain her balance just in time for Ty Lee to jump in on the group hug. The enthusiastic greetings continued when Zuko finally strolled into the throne room, his wide grin betraying his delight despite his complaining about the show of affection. They all finally disentangled themselves, and Zuko led them to a more casual room where they could sit around a low table and catch up. 

“How long are you guys going to be here?” Zuko asked.

We’ll be in the Fire Nation for a few days, but we’re leaving the capitol tomorrow,” Ty Lee replied. “It’s a bit of a trip to track down all of my sisters.” 

“We really wanted to make sure to be here for Mai’s birthday,” Suki continued. “Neither of us liked the idea of her spending it alone. Although,” she added with a sly glance at Aang. “I guess we don’t need to worry as much as we thought.”

Aang loudly cleared his throat. “Ah. You guys talked to Mai already.”

“We went to see her at the museum. It was...enlightening.” Ty Lee savored the last word. Aang could feel his entire face warming up as four pairs of eyes appraised him.

Katara, thank the spirits, came to his rescue. “Well it was nice of you to make the trip to be here for her. What do you have planned?”

“Dinner, maybe some dancing if we can convince her to stay out once the sun goes down,” Ty Lee answered. “Do you want to come?” The last question was directed at Zuko and Katara.

Zuko sighed, exchanging a look with Katara. “I don’t think it’s a good idea. I have a lot of work to do, I don’t think I’ll be much fun.”

“Yeah, I have a huge proposal to review, I’m barely sleeping as it is,” Katara agreed. What wasn’t said aloud was the near constant worry about the Phoenix Authority. Zuko had a hard enough time relaxing when he didn’t think that assassins were coming after him.

“Boo! What about you, Aang?” 

The thought of dancing with Mai made his decision easy. “Sure, I’d love to go. As long as you ladies don’t mind me tagging along.”

“Oh, I don’t think anyone will mind,” Suki said with a smirk. 

The plans for the evening settled, Ty Lee turned her attention to Zuko and Katara. “So how was the wedding? Tell me _everything!_ ”

* * *

“Where’s that dress we got you for my sister’s graduation two years ago?” Ty Lee rifled through Mai’s closet, examining and discarding each piece of clothing that didn’t meet her standards. “Ah ha!” she triumphantly announced, pulling the aforementioned dress out from its place shoved behind all of Mai’s work clothes. Ty Lee frowned. “When was the last time you wore this?”

“At your sister’s graduation two years ago,” Mai responded dryly. She was sitting on the edge of her bed, observing with some concern as all of her clothes began to pile up around her. She hadn’t really known what she had been expecting of the evening, but having Ty Lee walk her back to her apartment from work to get dressed was not it. Mai had objected to being walked home like a child, Ty Lee had countered that she fully expected Mai to try to run away and hide in the city until her birthday was over. Mai hadn’t been able to dispute that logic.

“What? That’s insane, you look hot in it!” Ty Lee sounded personally offended. “It’s settled, you’re wearing it tonight.”

“No way.” 

“Yes way!”

“Absolutely not.”

Ty Lee looked at her thoughtfully, then, in a surprising move, sat down next to Mai on the bed. “Listen,” she started gently. “I know you think you have to argue with me and be negative about this, because you don’t want to be excited. I know you don’t like to celebrate yourself at all. But Suki and I travelled a long way to be here with you.”

“I never asked you guys to come—”

“And I would have traveled twice as far to be here with you, today, in a heartbeat,” Ty Lee firmly steamrolled over Mai’s protesting. “So here’s the deal. If you say you don’t want to do something, we won’t do it. But you can’t say no just because you feel like you aren’t allowed to have fun or go all out for your birthday.”

Mai’s throat closed up, and she pondered exactly what she could have done right enough in her life to deserve a friend like Ty Lee. “Okay,” she whispered, then cleared her throat. The next time she spoke it was louder, more confident. “Deal.”

Ty Lee squealed and threw her arms around Mai. In a rare move, Mai returned the hug, timidly wrapping her own arms around the acrobat’s waist. Mai closed her eyes and took a deep breath, savoring the feeling. She thought that she didn’t appreciate this enough when she had had it as a teenager. Ty Lee broke away first, her gray eyes glowing, and she hopped back over to Mai’s closet. She pulled out the dress again, offering it to Mai. With a small smile, she accepted it.

It took a while to get ready, much longer than when Mai was getting dressed by herself. Ty Lee’s style was certainly… _different_ from hers, so it was a battle to find things in Mai’s wardrobe that Ty Lee approved of. Finally, Mai was allowed to retreat to the bathroom to change, the door half-open so the girls could still talk.

“I saw Azula today,” Ty Lee said out of the blue. Mai froze, her shirt halfway over her head. As far as she knew, nobody had been able to visit Azula in her clinic besides Zuko and Iroh.

“She let you in?” Mai asked carefully as she resumed changing, unsure of where this conversation was going. 

“Yeah, isn’t it crazy?” Ty Lee chuckled ruefully. “I wasn’t expecting it.”

Silence. “How is she?”

“She seems...okay. She said she’s trying to get back to a normal life.” Another pause. “She apologized to me.”

“ _Azula_ apologized to you?”

“I swear! And…” her voice wavered. “She asked about you.”

Mai closed her eyes and leaned against the sink. “She did?”

“She’ll let you in, if you go visit. She said so.”

“Maybe I will.” Mai studied herself in the mirror, trying to distract herself from the somber conversation. The dress was stunning, but it also showed off a lot more of her midsection and arms than she was used to. Especially in today’s political climate, where more fabric meant more places to hide knives. “Okay, I’m dressed.”

Ty Lee pushed the door open and gasped, her hands flying up to her mouth. “ _Mai!_ You’re a vision!” She excitedly clapped her hands together as she circled around Mai, evaluating her work. “Perfection. Why don’t you dress like this more? I know girls that would kill for those abs.”

Mai instinctively wrapped her arms around her stomach. “You do not. Everyone on Kyoshi Island has at least a six pack.”

“Would I lie to you?” Ty Lee clucked, pulling Mai’s arms away from herself and twirling her in a circle. “Why won’t you admit you’re the most beautiful girl in the Fire Nation?”

Despite herself, Mai cracked a grin at that. “What about your wife?”

“Duh, Suki is obviously the most beautiful girl in the _world,_ ” Ty Lee replied matter-of-factly. She paused, grinning devilishly. “I bet Aang would agree with me.”

“About Suki being the most beautiful girl in the world?”

“No! I mean yes, clearly. But I mean about you. You should have seen him—”

“No,” Mai said abruptly, snatching her hands out of Ty Lee’s. “I don’t want to talk about Aang now.”

Ty Lee looked disappointed, but in the name of their deal she backed down. “Okay, no Aang talk. Now sit down, I need to brush out that exquisitely styled hair that your good friend did for you.” Mai shot her a warning glance, but true to her word, Ty Lee didn’t bring up Aang for the rest of the time it took to do her hair and makeup. Instead, she chattered about safer topics: how the new Kyoshi warrior recruits were doing, that Suki had built a bird feeder in their backyard, a funny story about a painter getting stuck on the Kyoshi statue’s head when he accidentally kicked his ladder away. Mai had little to do but laugh and interject with sarcastic commentary, mostly just watching Ty Lee flit around her in the reflection of the mirror. It felt comfortable, familiar. Home. She barely complained when Ty Lee painted her lips dark red and lined her eyes with black. When she finally caught a glance of herself in the mirror, she did a double-take. She almost didn’t recognize herself, but she had to give Ty Lee some credit.

She looked _good._

* * *

Aang wolf-whistled when he opened his door to see Suki all dolled up, wearing an open-backed vibrant green dress that showed off her muscular shoulders. Suki grinned and spun around, striking a pose before pushing past him into his room. 

“I can’t believe I get to spend the evening with you three gorgeous women,” he declared, leaning down to kiss her on the cheek. “Are you sure it isn’t _my_ birthday?”

“Enough of that, you scoundrel,” Suki stuck her tongue out at him. “Besides, you haven’t even _seen_ what Ty Lee is going to do for Mai.”

Well, that was certainly promising. “Where is your wife and the birthday girl?”

“They’re getting ready at Mai’s apartment. They should be here soon.” Suki assessed him, a wrinkle forming in between her eyebrows. “Didn’t you come here for a wedding? Why aren’t you dressed up?”

Aang shrugged. “I’m a monk, I don’t have dress up clothes.” He was wearing the same thing he had worn to Zuko and Katara’s wedding, his orange tunic that draped loosely over one shoulder and left most of his torso bare. The only real change was that he had switched out his purple earring for a blue crystal.

Suki clicked her tongue. “I suppose that makes sense. You’re lucky you’re cute and can get away with that.” With a loud sigh, she flopped inelegantly onto the sofa, one leg swinging over the arm of the couch. “What’s going on with you two anyway?”

Aang considered playing dumb, but knew Suki wouldn’t fall for it. “I don’t know,” he answered honestly, sitting next to her on the couch.

“You like her, don’t you?” Trust Suki to distill the past few weeks of uncertainty into a single blunt question.

Aang hung his head over the back of the couch. “Yes.”

“So what’s the problem?”

He fumbled for the right words. “It’s complicated. And I don’t know how she feels about me.”

“She moved in here with you, you don’t think that means she likes you?”

“That’s nothing, there was—”

“Yeah, yeah, we heard about the kidnapping thing.” Suki sat up so she could fix him with a disbelieving stare. “Do you think Mai would ever do something she didn’t want to do because she feared for her own safety?”

He hadn’t thought about that. “I guess not.”

“And do you think Mai would ever do something she didn’t want to do because somebody else told her to? Even you?”

The thought of Mai blindly doing what she was told was, frankly, laughable. “No.”

Suki sank back into the couch, satisfied. “So she’s definitely here because she wants to be here. With you. I think you have more of a shot than you think.” She emphasized her point with a punch to his arm. 

They were interrupted by a boisterous knock on the door, after which Ty Lee burst in before they could get up to open it. Aang rose to his feet then stopped dead, pretty sure his entire body shut down when he saw Mai walk in the door. He always thought she looked beautiful, and he had seen her dressed up before, but she didn’t usually have Ty Lee as her stylist. The top of the dress tied at one of her shoulders and stopped just below her ribcage, leaving her arms and midriff bare. The skirt was long and flowing, but a slit ran up each side so that when she moved it exposed her legs up to her thighs. It wasn’t black, but charcoal gray, which brought enough warmth to her pale skin that she was positively radiant. Her hair was undone, sleekly falling down her neck and across her back like a curtain. Most enticing of all was the wine red lipstick, drawing his attention inexorably to her mouth.

“Aang, you’re drooling,” Suki tapped the underside of his chin with the back of her hand, enough to make him notice that he had indeed been gawking like a dying fish. Mai crossed her arms and stared back, one eyebrow raised in challenge. He straightened up and shooed Suki’s hand away, very pointedly _not_ looking at Mai. “You look very nice,” he managed to say, grateful that his voice didn’t crack.

“Aw, thank you!” Ty Lee giggled, slinging one arm around Mai and squeezing. “She put up a good fight, but I think we got something really special out of our gorgeous little birthday flower.” 

“Alright, if you idiots are done making fun of me, we should get going,” Mai said, her pale complexion giving away her flushed face. She was clearly embarrassed by the compliments, which was a shame, because Aang could have spent the entire night telling her how dazzling she looked. He couldn’t start quite yet though, because there was something else he had to do before they left.

“Wait!” Aang’s hand wrapped around the small box in his pocket, his palms sweating. Suki and Ty Lee stopped in the doorway, Mai just behind them. “I have your birthday present,” he explained, withdrawing the box and holding it out to Mai.

Mai regarded it skeptically. “I thought dinner was my present.”

“That’s your present from Ty Lee and Suki. This one’s from me.” Aang knew it was too much. He knew. He had spent the entire day worried that it would freak her out and that she wouldn’t like it. Worse, he worried that it wouldn’t seem like much because she wouldn’t even remember the significance of it. That would hurt even more, since the moment had been seared in Aang’s brain to replay itself over and over.

Still, there was nothing he could do about it now, because Mai was taking the box out of his hand and opening it. She stared numbly at the earrings, two light blue gems wrapped in delicate gold wire, with a tiny gold flame dangling from the bottom.

“They’re from Mount Nantai,” he explained, feeling his words rush and jumble over themselves. “I don’t know if you remember, but the first time we went flying on Appa I pointed it out, and you said you had never been, and—”

“I remember,” she murmured, picking up one of the earrings and holding it up to the light. “Blue obsidian, right?”

Relief washed over Aang. “Right! Anyway, I flew over after my meeting with Katara. One of the jewelers there helped me pick out the stones and gave me some supplies to make them.”

“You made them?” Now she was looking up at him, so raw and hopeful that it physically wrenched his heart. All at once, the hours spent flying on Appa followed by hours spent bending tiny pieces of metal while peering through a magnifying glass were worth it.

“I made them.” Aang was not a person naturally inclined to be bashful, but he couldn’t keep the slight tremor out of his voice when he asked, “Do you like them?”

“Yes,” she breathed. “I love them.” She began taking out the earrings that she was already wearing, switching them out for the ones that Aang had made. Aang glanced up to see that Suki and Ty Lee were still observing them from the doorway, each with their hand helpfully clamped over the other’s mouth. They saw his head move towards them and both gave him a thumbs up with their free hand. He grimaced at how obvious they were being, and they succeeded in schooling themselves into a facade of composure by the time Mai was done. He really couldn’t think about how Mai was looking at him now, so instead he offered an arm out to her. She timidly wound her arm around his elbow, and they followed Ty Lee and Suki out of the palace.

* * *

The four of them tumbled into the bar that Ty Lee had picked for after dinner entertainment. Somehow, despite not living in the city, she had picked the most popular bar in the area, complete with a live band and a packed dance floor. Mai was already tipsy after their dinner, which had included several glasses of wine and a shot of firewhiskey. Ty Lee had her elbow hooked in Mai’s, and it took a second for her to realize that she was steering them towards the dance floor. Mai dug in her heels, bringing them to a halt. Aang and Suki, who had been tagging along behind them, stopped as well.

“Nobody said anything about dancing,” Mai said accusingly.

Suki rolled her eyes. “Why else would we come to this bar?”

“To drink.”

“And dance!” Ty Lee chirped, tightening her hold on Mai’s arm and trying to drag her forward. Mai held her ground.

“Well, I’m going to need more drinks to dance,” Mai replied, turning towards the bar. With matching long-suffering sighs, Suki and Ty Lee followed her lead. 

“Party poopers!” Aang booed, crossing his arms. “I want to dance now!”

Like magic, a young man around their age appeared at Aang’s side. “I’ll dance with you,” he said, flashing a cheeky smile and holding a hand out to Aang. 

Aang made sure to shoot a smug grin towards Mai. “ _Thank you,_ I would love to.” He accepted the man’s hand, who swiftly pulled him into the throng of dancers. Mai could still easily pick Aang out of the crowd, both because of his height and the way he drew people’s attention, pulling other dancers in towards him. With a dismissive shake of her head, she led Ty Lee and Suki over to the bar.

The blaring music was giving Mai a headache, so once they had their drinks they settled at a table in the corner of the bar that was still within sight of the dance floor. Ty Lee sighed, resting her chin on Suki’s shoulder. “Okay, so what’s wrong with him?”

Mai already didn’t like where this was going. “What’s wrong with who?”

“Aang, of course! I don’t get it. He’s cute, and funny, and makes you beautiful jewelry.” Mai’s hand unconsciously went up to her head, her fingers brushing her earrings. “Do you not like him?”

Having the question directed at her point blank by someone Mai knew she couldn’t lie to left her tongue-tied. She took a sip of her drink, savoring the warm burn of the whiskey in her mouth. Finally, she shrugged. “It doesn’t matter.”

Ty Lee didn’t seem pleased with that answer. “Of course it matters! Why wouldn’t it matter?”

Mai could think of a thousand reasons, but she settled on, “Because as soon as this coup is sorted out, he’s going to leave. There’s no point starting something that won’t go anywhere.”

“Why wouldn’t it go anywhere?” Suki interjected, her gaze far too intense for someone who had had as much to drink as she had. 

“I’d be here, and he’d be off who-knows-where,” Mai bitterly replied, wondering why this very obvious problem wasn’t so obvious to the two women. “It’s not like you guys, you’ve lived within a mile of each other for ten years.”

Suki pursed her lips. “Sokka and I dated for a year and a half. I was here, and he was at the South Pole.”

Mai had completely forgotten about that. “Well,” she floundered. “That’s different.” Suki waited patiently for her to dig herself out of the hole she had made. “He was staying in one place, you could write to each other, and visit. And you were younger. I’m way past the age where it’s romantic to sit by the window waiting for a guy to show up.”

“I’m just saying,” Suki held up her hands in a gesture of surrender. “If you really love each other, you can make it work.” 

Mai choked on her drink, feeling her cheeks warm. “Okay, I never said anything about love. Besides,” her voice lowered, eyes cast down at the table. “It doesn’t matter, because he doesn’t feel that way about me.”

Ty Lee giggled. “Ha! Good one!”

Mai frowned. “Good what?”

“That…that was a joke, right?” Ty Lee faltered, exchanging a worried glance with her wife. 

Realization flashed across Suki’s face, and she breathed out dramatically. “Oh. Oh, you don’t know, do you?”

Mai was starting to get annoyed. She wasn’t accustomed to feeling stupid, but these two were acting like they were in on some big secret. “Know what?”

“Mai,” Suki clamped a heavy hand down on her shoulder, shaking it a little. “That boy is madly in love with you.”

Mai’s stomach dropped out from under her, and all she could do was bark a derisive laugh. “You’re funny.”

“We’re not kidding,” Ty Lee piped up.

“If this is about me staying with him—”

“It’s not, although that is a very good point, because you two are _living together_ ,” Suki interrupted her. “Do you really not see him flirting with you?”

“He flirts with everyone,” Mai scoffed,, swirling her drink in her hand.

“And I suppose that he’ll fly hours out of his way to buy gemstones and handmake earrings for _everyone_ , right?” Suki drawled. 

“That’s not—”

“And he braids _everyone’s_ hair every morning?” Ty Lee added.

“Okay, the two of you are never talking to Rika again,” Mai grumbled, downing the rest of her drink in one shot before pointing to the dance floor. “He is literally dancing with someone else right now.”

The two women’s heads swiveled to look at the dance floor simultaneously, where Aang was still dancing with that same guy, twirling him expertly under his arm. Suki studied him for a minute, then shook her head. “That’s nothing.”

Mai sighed. “What do you mean ‘nothing’?”

“Aang’s barely touching him, and he keeps looking up every ten seconds to check on you,” Suki answered confidently, raising her own glass to her lips. “Trust me, it’s nothing.”

Mai refused to let her opinion on that show on her face. “It’s not true just because you say it.”

“Fine.” Suki’s expression turned mischievous. “I bet you a gold piece that if you waved him over, he’d drop that guy _instantly_ and come here.”

That seemed like a safe bet, especially considering how close Aang and his partner were dancing now. Mai waited until Aang’s head was up and scanning across the bar, then raised one arm and beckoned him over. Her heart skipped a few beats as she watched him smile, lean down to whisper in the guy’s ear, then leave him on the dance floor to walk over to their table. Ty Lee brought her drink to her mouth in a poor attempt to stifle her giggling, and Suki smugly held out one hand. Mai sighed, digging through her pocket until she found her wallet, then sourly dropped a gold coin into Suki’s outstretched palm.

“Hey! What’s going on?” Aang greeted them, a droplet of sweat rolling down his temple.

“Don’t worry your pretty little head about it,” Suki replied sweetly, hopping down from her stool. “Ty Lee and I are going to dance, and we thought someone should keep the birthday girl company.” She shot Mai a meaningful glance as she took Ty Lee’s hand and led her to the dance floor. Ty Lee blew Mai a kiss and waggled her eyebrows at her and Aang, ignoring Mai’s glowering. Aang, mercifully, did not ask her to clarify, just flopped down in the seat that Suki had vacated. 

“You don’t want to dance?” he inquired, sounding as though the thought had never crossed his mind.

Mai suddenly became _very_ interested in examining her nails. “I don’t really know how.” This wasn’t entirely true; like most Fire Nation nobility, she had been classically trained when she was a child. She had liked it enough, but that type of dancing was more suited to a large ballroom full of stuffy governors and ministers, not a crowded dance floor at a dive bar.

Aang disagreed. “Dancing isn’t something you know _how_ to do, it’s just something you do. Everyone can dance.”

“I’m not stopping you. Go find your new friend.”

“I’m not going to leave you here alone on your birthday.” Aang sounded insulted that she would even suggest it. The image of Aang sitting next to her at the table, all night, because he didn’t want her to be alone sprang to her mind. Suki’s words echoed through her mind.

_That boy is madly in love with you._

“Are you going to pout here all night if I don’t dance?” Mai asked.

Aang immediately dropped his head onto his arms that were folded on the table, then turned to look at her with one sad, gray eye. “Yes.”

With an exasperated sigh that she absolutely did not mean, Mai stood up and held a hand out to Aang. “Alright, let’s go.”

All smiles again, the airbender leapt to his feet and grabbed her hand, yanking her towards the dance floor. She was surrounded by people, constantly jostled by strangers’ arms and legs. Her whole body tensed up, then Aang was holding each of her hands in one of his, reassuring and safe. “Relax,” he murmured, pulling her closer to him. “We’ll start easy. When I step forward, you step back.” He moved his left foot forward, his toe bumping against her right foot, until she pulled it back behind her. Nodding encouragingly, he brought that foot back to center, then moved his right foot back behind him. Picking up on the pattern, Mai moved her left foot forward at the same time. 

“Yeah!” he beamed. “Now you can add a little pizzazz, like this.” He exaggeratedly rolled his hips on the next step, which elicited a snicker from Mai, which seemed to be the intention. She tried to match his movement, allowing her own hips to sway in time with the steps. “Look at me, not at your feet,” was his next instruction, and she lifted her head to catch that blinding, intense stare of his that sent shivers through her whole body. She was so distracted that the first time he let go of one hand to twirl her out, she was caught off guard, and almost slipped right out of his grasp. He caught her at the last minute and tugged her back to him, so that she thudded against his chest. “You’re getting it,” he laughed, and Mai realized that she was also laughing.

The rest of the evening passed in a whirlwind. Sometimes Mai danced with Ty Lee or Suki, girlish giggles bubbling out of them as the more experienced dancers twirled her around. Most of the time, though, she danced with Aang. She felt his hands like red-hot brands, skimming across her hips, her back, her arms. At one point he dipped her low, one hand provocatively sliding up the back of her thigh. Suki’s words rang in her ear with every touch, every time someone else asked Aang to dance and he turned them away, every time they paused with their bodies pressed against each other, breathing heavily in the muggy air. The idea of someone like Aang being in love with her was preposterous, but he _was_ here, his attention single-mindedly focused on her. When she moved her head, she could feel the earrings he had made click against her neck and jaw. Mount Nantai wasn’t far, but it wasn’t close, either. And she had never had a boyfriend that made her presents before.

As the night wore on, the buzz of alcohol quieted her racing mind, allowing her to actually enjoy herself. They left the bar when it closed, which was something Mai hadn’t done in many years. They stumbled back to the palace, Mai selfishly supporting herself against Aang’s side, her feet dragging on the cobblestones. She reminded him that he owed her this after the wedding, and he chuckled so that she could feel his chest vibrate against her. “I wasn’t complaining.”

Ty Lee and Suki peeled off from them once they got inside the palace; Zuko kept a room just for their sporadic visits in another wing. They drunkenly embraced Mai and peppered her face with kisses until Mai shoved them away, her grumbling at odds with the stupid smile that refused to leave her. 

Back in their quarters, Aang steered Mai into the bedroom. “I’m fine, you don’t need to walk me,” she griped. He cooperatively pulled his hands away from her, only for her to immediately stumble. He caught her before she could fall down, the laughter dying in his throat as they appraised each other.

“Did I tell you that you look really beautiful?” he murmured.

Mai tried to talk, but nothing came out. She swallowed and finally was able to croak, “I don’t remember.” 

“Well, I’ll tell you again, to be safe.” He was standing so close, his hands on her arms, she could do nothing but helplessly stare up at him. “You look beautiful.” For a wild moment, Mai thought he was going to kiss her. His head ducked down towards her, ever so slightly, and she instinctively tilted her face up towards him. He hesitated, then seemed to think better of it and pulled back. “Goodnight, Mai,” he said instead, stepping backwards, away from her. “Happy birthday.”

Mai didn’t bother washing her face or changing into sleeping clothes. She did make sure to take out the earrings Aang had made for her, carefully placing them on her bedside table so she could still see them when she laid down on her side.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> anyone else living vicariously through fictional characters that can go out to bars or is it just me? Shout out to all us poor bitches that had quarantine birthdays, I watched space jam and made jello shots with my roommate!


	8. we’re stuck in the storm

Mai’s gut was churning and her palms were sweating, but years of practice allowed her to keep her face impassive. She followed the orderly down a long hallway, sweeping past him when he opened one of many identical doors. He closed the door behind her, and Mai had to swallow down her instinct that was telling her that she was trapped in a cage. She took a tentative step forward, then another, surveying the young woman that was seated at a table in front of her.

Azula had grown into a beautiful young woman, and for a split second Mai imagined she was looking at the resurrected Fire Lady Ursa. Her face had grown longer, her cheekbones more prominent. She wasn’t wearing any makeup, which somehow made her look older. Her dark hair was tied in a low ponytail that hung straight down the back of her chair, and her brilliant gold eyes were downcast, focused on the table. Mai followed the direction that she was looking, and grimaced at the pai sho board that was set up.

“Do you play?” Azula asked, not looking up at her. One ghost-white hand reached out and plucked a tile from the board. The disturbingly sharp fingernails that Mai remembered had been filed down to the quick. Her wrists that poked out of the overlarge sleeves of her robe looked as delicate as twigs, and Mai was struck by how _fragile_ Azula seemed. She was all harsh angles and slender lines, no longer resembling the inferno that she had once been. Azula used to burn, the fire shimmering just under her skin at all times. Now, Mai thought that if she touched her, she would feel ice cold.

“No, I hate pai sho,” Mai answered, taking a seat in the chair across from the princess.

“Me too,” Azula said, placing her tile down absentmindedly. “Zuko insists, he says he won’t come if I don’t play. I don’t know why, he’s absolutely terrible at it. I win every time.” She finally looked up and Mai was secretly relieved to see that her eyes, at least, were still burning.

Mai waited with her arms crossed, her body coiled tight as a spring.

“You haven’t been here in a while,” Azula broke the silence, picking up another tile and running it through her fingers, like a street busker would with a coin.

“After the twentieth attempt, I figured I wasn’t wanted.” Mai wouldn’t put it past Azula to genuinely be offended that she hadn’t tried to see her every day for the past decade. A shadow of Azula’s former arrogant smirk flashed across her face.

“I’m sorry, Mai,” she said, and the words hit Mai like a physical punch in the gut. It was enough to break her collected façade, and she knew her mouth was hanging open. Hearing Ty Lee say that Azula had apologized and hearing the words from the princess herself were two very different things. Still, Mai was not quick to forgive.

“Sorry for what?”

Azula sighed impatiently. “I’m not my brother,” she snapped, sounding more like her old self. “I don’t have an itemized list of every misdeed I’ve committed to wallow over.” Mai opened her mouth, but Azula continued. “I’m sorry I hurt you. I’m sorry I hurt Ty Lee. I’m sorry I made you fight my battles for me. I’m sorry I locked you in prison. I’m sorry I used you.” The list of transgressions, spoken in such a nonchalant way, almost sounded comical. A lump rose in her throat as Azula captured her gaze, an unspoken plea in her eyes.

“Why?” was all that Mai could say.

Azula shrugged her shoulders. “It hurts to be mad at you,” she answered matter-of-factly. “I’m tired. I spent years fighting against this place, and I’m tired. I may be in here for the rest of my life, and I don’t want to spend that time arguing with ghosts.”

“So this is just for you then,” Mai couldn’t hide the sourness in her voice.

“No!” Azula slammed her hand down on the table, shaking the pai sho tiles off their squares. It took everything in Mai’s power not to jump, but she kept a careful eye on the other woman, waiting for the inevitable fireworks.

Instead, Azula took a deep breath in, held it for a few seconds, then let it out slowly. There were no sparks on the exhale, nor smoke coming out of her nose. She opened her eyes, and Mai was struck by the genuine, agonizing sorrow they expressed. She had never seen that on Azula before.

“I don’t expect total forgiveness. But you and Ty Lee...you were good to me, and I didn’t appreciate it. And...I wanted you to know that I know that.” The words were slow and clunky, so unlike Azula’s usual sleek speech pattern. That, above all other things, made Mai think that she was being sincere. This wasn’t Azula with a clever scheme trying to manipulate her. This was Azula trying to admit she had done something wrong.

It was a good first step.

“Thank you,” Mai said simply, and a look of disbelief flashed across Azula’s face. “Are you...doing okay in here?”

A grimace. “I’m bored. They’ve started to let me spar with firebending, but nobody here is any good.” Hearing Azula placidly talk about people “letting her” firebend was another surprise, but a good one. 

“Zuko won’t fight you?” Mai knew the answer to that already.

“Of course not,” Azula snorted. “Do you still work at the museum?”

Mai didn’t bother to ask how Azula knew that. “Yeah.”

“And you like it? You don’t get bored?”

“I do, but it’s a nice kind of boring.”

Azula didn’t ask her to elaborate, but Mai had a feeling she knew exactly what she was talking about. “Didn’t you just have a birthday?”

“Three days ago.”

“Right. When Ty Lee was here.”

“Right.”

“Did she come here just for you?”

A bashful smile flickered at the corner of Mai’s lips. “Yes.” 

They lapsed into a comfortable silence. Azula appeared to be planning her next pai sho game with her brother; she would move the pieces around on the board, frown at them, then move them again. Sometimes Mai would nudge a tile over. They were almost playing the game, but they were on the same team.

“So,” Azula prodded, breaking the silence. “What’s this about you and the Avatar?”

Mai rolled her eyes. “Ty Lee is full of it. There is no me and the Avatar.” Whatever moment she had thought had happened between her and Aang had disappeared by the next morning, and Aang had yet to do anything else to indicate that he liked her. She was firmly of the belief that both Suki and Ty Lee were seeing what they wanted to see. Mai told herself that she was fine with that. 

“Is there something wrong with him? Ty Lee said that he got hot.”

Mai could feel the blush go all the way to the tips of her ears. “That’s not the point. He’s just a friend.”

“You’re staying with him in the palace.” It wasn’t a question, but a statement.

“There was a kidnapping attempt at my apartment.”

“Oh, right. How many did they send?”

“Four?”

Azula pouted. “Only four kidnappers? That’s insulting.”

“I thought so too.”

Azula chuckled, and for a second she looked younger, like the child that Mai had once known. They went back to Azula’s pai sho strategy, and had just come up with something they deemed good enough to beat Zuko, and possibly Iroh, when a nurse came by and told them it was time for her to go.

Mai stood to leave, and Azula followed suit, suddenly shy. “Can I hug you goodbye?” she asked. Mai wondered how many more times Azula could shock her today. “I like to get permission. People tend to get nervous when I come towards them,” she explained, and Mai didn’t think she imagined the hint of pride in her voice. She nodded, and then Azula had her arms wrapped around her, her sharp chin digging into the crook of her neck. Mai hesitantly returned the hug, feeling her heart clench at how bony and frail Azula was. She was afraid to squeeze her too hard and break her in half. Azula pulled back first, and the two women jointly decided not to comment on the tears glistening in the other’s eyes.

“You could visit again, if you want.” 

“I will” Mai found herself promising. Azula smiled.

“Good.”

* * *

Whatever plans Aang had had for the day were shattered when a messenger came by his room to inform him that Fire Lady Katara requested his immediate attention. Somewhat bemused by the formal invitation, Aang joined the stream of palace workers that were moving in and out of Katara and Zuko’s office, reminding him of a colony of worker ants. In her office, Katara was directing the flow of traffic. She wasn’t wearing her usual palace finery, but was dressed in her practical Water Tribe clothing. Aang waited for a moment of respite to catch Katara’s attention, getting more and more intrigued. 

Finally, the room cleared out, everyone given their designated orders. Katara beckoned Aang over with little fanfare, directing his attention to a map on her desk.

“A nickel refinery on the Kushiro River malfunctioned early this morning. There was an explosion, and a lot of oil and sulfur is now polluting the river.” Katara pointed out the location on the map, which wasn’t far outside Caldera City. “We’re working to evacuate the nearby villages, make sure the refinery isn’t still dangerous, and of course to clean up the river.” She finally looked up at him, her panic turning her smile into a pained grimace. “Think we could get the Avatar’s help on this?”

“Of course,” Aang replied. “What do you need?”

Katara exhaled a sigh of relief. “We have people on the river working with nets and other filters. But it’s going to take a couple of waterbenders to get all the oil and finer pollutants.”

Aang put a reassuring hand on her shoulder. “I’ll do whatever I can to help. We can take Appa.”

The flight to the refinery was tense. Katara was chewing on the skin around her thumbnail, her gaze skittering across the landscape. Aang was struck by how anxious she was, and how deeply she loved the people of the Fire Nation. Katara had always cared about other people, but it was obvious that she considered the citizens here _hers._

“It’s going to be okay,” he said as soothingly as he could. Katara flashed him an apprehensive smile, not believing his platitudes but appreciating the effort. 

As Appa flew low over the still-smoking refinery, all the people already at work in the river looked up and waved. He heard a few people shouting his name joyfully, but more of them were cheering for Katara. She leaned over the saddle and waved back, her eyes glowing. She descended from Appa when he landed, greeting many of the workers by name and offering encouragement. Aang’s heart swelled with pride; it hadn’t been easy getting the people of the Fire Nation to accept Katara as their Fire Lady, but it was clear how much they adored and respected her now.

Katara and Aang set themselves up along the outskirts of the spill, intending to keep the lightest of the toxins from spreading too far along the river. So far, they were the only waterbenders, though more would be coming in the next few hours. They settled into the rhythm of bending easily, moving the water between their hands and removing the contaminants, which were then dumped in large containers. They worked quietly for a while; purifying the water with waterbending took concentration, and they both had to focus.

“So,” Aang broke the silence first. “About Mai.”

Katara turned so quickly that the water she was bending went shooting out of her hands, drenching Aang.

“Katara!” Aang yelped, bending the oily water off of himself with a disgusted flick of his hands. 

“Sorry, sorry!” Katara took a deep breath, folding her hands against each other. “I’m cool. What about Mai?”

Now, having made the decision to talk honestly about his feelings, Aang found that he had no idea where to begin. After a minute of silence, Katara groaned. “Please Aang, you are _killing_ me. What’s going on with you and Mai?”

“I love her,” Aang blurted out, and immediately dropped the water he had been working on so he could bury his face in his hands. “I don’t know how this happened. I was only supposed to be here a few days, and now it’s been weeks and I can’t stop thinking about her, and I…” he trailed off, desperately trying to stem the flow of his babbling.

Katara had her hands to her cheeks, though she didn’t look even a little bit surprised. “You _love_ her?” she repeated delightedly. “That’s so romantic!”

“Is it?” Aang’s voice sounded much higher-pitched than usual.

“Yes, it is.” Katara moved her hands to her hips. “I don’t see what the problem is.”

“Well, first of all, I don’t even know if she likes me.”

Katara’s laugh was loud and sharp. “Really?”

His head shot up, eyes narrowed. “Why, did she say something to you?”

Her face softened at his anguished expression. “No, she hasn’t said anything. To be honest, I don’t know Mai that well. But I see the way she looks at you. She’s laughed more in the past two months with you than I’ve seen in the past decade. You spend hours together, every day, and she still wants to spend time with you. That _means_ something.”

Aang didn’t look any happier with her reassurances. “Even so. It’s not fair on her.”

“What isn’t?”

“When this Phoenix thing is figured out, I’m going to leave.” The statement was blunt, undisputable. There was no circumstance where Aang could spend the rest of his life in one place. Even if he weren’t the Avatar, it was in his nature to move, not to put down roots. “It’s not a fair choice. Either she sits and waits for me, or she gives up her entire life to join me.”

“Have you talked to her about this?”

Aang snorted. “Of course not.”

“It sounds like you’re making her choice for her.” Katara’s tone was critical, and Aang opened his mouth to argue. She continued talking over him. “Your biggest problem is that you always want to be the most selfless, so you’re the only one that has to make sacrifices. Relationships are about compromise, and that isn’t a compromise. Maybe Mai would want to give up this life to travel with you.”

“Yeah, because it worked out so well for you,” Aang muttered bitterly, looking away.

“Hey!” Katara snapped, shoving one finger in the middle of his chest. “Don’t you dare say that. I wouldn’t have given my time with you up for anything. Those years I spent traveling with you were some of the best of my life. Yes, I missed my family, but it was my choice, and it was worth it.” She reached out to take one of his hands that had fallen limply to his side. “You need to give someone else the chance to make that choice.”

Aang was speechless, both from the force and the content of her tirade. “Do you really mean that?” he rasped, trying to talk past the lump in his throat. He had carried that guilt with him, that she resented her time with him, for years.

Katara squeezed his hand, her grin open and loving. “Of course I do. What girl doesn’t want to save the world with the Avatar?” He looked away, and she reached out with her free hand to firmly tilt his jaw with her fingertips, forcing him to meet her gaze. “Let somebody give something up for you. It is so worth it.”

As Katara dropped her hands from him to begin bending the water again, leaving him standing alone. He thought about Zuko’s arguments with his advisors, who insisted that the Fire Lady could never be from the Water Tribe. He thought about Katara, who hadn’t been to the South Pole in over a year, but who was making her own life in the Fire Nation. They had both made sacrifices, and yet they were happier together than they would ever be on their own.

“So what do I do?” Aang asked, unable to keep the begging note out of his voice.

Katara shrugged. “I can’t tell you what to do.”

“Since when?” 

“Since you’re a grown man, figure it out.”

“Katar _aaaaaa._ ”

“Oh for the love of—” Katara threw her arms up in the air, sending up a wave of water that threatened to spill everything they had already cleaned from the river. “Go talk to her, you idiot! Tell her how you feel and see if she feels the same way!”

That was, of course, the best, most mature way to handle this. Which was also why he had needed it spelled out for him. “Right,” he said decisively, taking his stance so he could begin waterbending again. “I’ll tell her today.”

* * *

“Oh good, you’re here. I wanted to talk to you—” Aang blinked. “Wait, what are you doing here? Aren’t you working today?” Aang had been expecting to have some time alone in the room to mull over what he wanted to say, and instead Mai was already there, looking just as baffled to see him. 

She continued wrapping a thin strip of fabric around her wrist and hand. “I took the day off.”

“Are you okay?” For the few months that Aang had known her, Mai had never taken a day off of work. She had gone to work the day after she was supposed to be kidnapped. 

“I went to see Azula this morning.” The tight line of her mouth did not invite further questioning.

“Oh.” He floundered, and for a split second considered just blurting out his feelings. His common sense finally overrode his impatience, and what he ended up saying was, “Where are you going now?”

Mai finished wrapping up both wrists and flexed her hands. “I’m going to train.”

“I thought you trained here?” Aang was confused; all of Mai’s knives and targets were in their quarters, and Aang was used to seeing her practice with them before dinner.

“With the knives, yes. But I still have to exercise to stay in shape. Not all of us have a thousand bending katas to run through every day.” Aang had never really thought about it, but it made sense. Mai was obviously very fit: she could run nearly as fast as him when he didn’t use airbending, and he could still recall how her muscles had moved under his hands when they were dancing together. 

“Can I come with you?” he inquired, hoping that at some point he would work up the nerve to talk to her. Katara was going to kill him if he didn’t get it done today.

Mai looked taken aback by the request, but she shrugged. “Sure. It’s not that exciting though.”

“I’ll be the judge of that,” he declared, reveling in the warm feeling that infused him whenever he managed to make Mai smile.

Aang still wasn’t really familiar with the layout of the palace, and lost his bearings almost instantly. Mai, on the other hand, confidently led the way, never hesitating or back-tracking. They stopped at a rather unassuming door, Aang trailing along and shutting the door behind them with his foot. The room itself was clearly a training room for non-benders. The floor was covered in rubber padding, and the walls were lined with weapons and weights. Mai shed her outer layer and carelessly dropped it on the ground, leaving her in her light, loose-fighting shirt and pants. Aang followed suit, discarding his shirt by the door.

“Now what?” he asked cheerfully. Mai had started to stretch, her eyes closed as if she were concentrating hard. 

“You do whatever you want. I have a routine that I’ll go through, it takes about two hours.” Mai finally opened her eyes to point at him. “No bending though. If you set anything on fire or blow a hole in the roof, I’m going to be mad.”

“That sounds boring. Do you want to spar?”

“With you?” She sounded so scandalized by the offer that Aang was almost offended.

“Yes, with me. I can fight without bending. As long as you promise you don’t have any knives hidden away on you.”

Mai considered his proposal, then reached into her sleeves and pulled out, quite frankly, an absurd amount of knives. She set them much more carefully on the ground than she had done with her jacket, then met Aang in the middle of the room. “Fine. No bending, no knives. First person to pin the other for ten seconds wins.”

Aang lifted up his arms in a fighting stance, his blood singing with the promise of a good battle. It had been quite a long time since he had fought someone without using his bending, and he was craving a challenge. Plus, he reasoned, if he was about to ruin his friendship with Mai by telling her how he felt, it would probably be safer if she had already gotten the fight out of her system.

Without warning, Mai flew in to attack first, striking at his torso, arms, and head with pointed fingers. Aang easily deflected each hit, but he could tell she was testing him, probing for weaknesses. They fell into the rhythm of the fight easily, their investigative blows turning more aggressive. Aang did have to focus a little bit on not bending; he had excellent control over his firebending and wasn’t worried about burning her, but he was so accustomed to airbending with every movement that it came to him like second nature. In the spirit of their competition he tried to keep it fair, though privately he thought she would still be putting up a good fight even if he did bend a little. He had never had Mai’s combative nature turned on him like this, and he was entranced. Every move was both methodical and lightning fast. He recalled her saying she didn’t know how to dance, and he thought it an unjust assessment of her skills. She moved like a dancer, light on her feet, leaping forward in a flurry of attacks and then alighting backwards, out of reach. It was distractingly sexy, and Aang had to waste even more valuable brain power to keep himself from visibly gawking.

Curious to try something new, Aang stepped behind Mai, closely following her movements and slipping his feet so he stayed behind her whichever way she turned. Circle-walking on its own didn’t require any actual airbending, and Aang had found it a delightfully entertaining way to infuriate his opponents. One hand was lightly resting on her back, and she twisted a few times, trying to face him. She paused, and then her feet shifted in a familiar way and the next thing he knew, they were face to face. His surprise must have been apparent, because she laughed before ducking down, attempting to sweep his legs out from under him with her foot. He jumped out of the way and faced her again, impressed.

“How did you learn circle-walking?” It didn’t make any sense; the airbenders didn’t record their bending on scrolls the way that the other nations did, and he had never taught her.

“An earthbending master was fascinated by the airbenders, and made his own bending scrolls 150 years ago,” Mai explained. “They were based on his own observations, so I’m sure they aren’t totally accurate.” She threw another barrage of punches at him, but he was still too astonished to attack her back.

“How do you know how to do it though?”

“I have a copy of the scroll, I used to draw bagua circles on the floor to practice.” She lowered her arms a fraction, frowning in annoyance that he wasn’t fighting her back. “I’m not nearly as good as you, obviously.”

Aang kept staring at her, unable to believe that this incredible woman was the only person he had met in ten years who knew an airbending form. It felt like destiny. The words “ _I love you_ ” pulsed behind his lips, threatening to spill out.

“Come on Aang, you started this fight,” she taunted him, holding her closed fists up again. “I’m not done yet.” 

He could wait. He would wait. With an unabashed laugh, Aang threw himself back into the fight, reminding himself not to underestimate his opponent again.

* * *

Mai knew she was going to win a second before she actually did. It seemed to happen in slow motion: Mai jabbing towards Aang’s shoulder, him raising one arm to block her, leaving his torso exposed for one crucial moment. That second was all that she needed. She leapt into him, one knee connecting with his stomach, and bringing him down with her on top of him. Quick as a flash, she had both his wrists in her hands, pinning them to the ground over his head. He struggled to free himself, but she had him trapped. Benders were all the same; they excelled in mid to long range combat, but up this close, with their hands out of commission, they were helpless.

And they were close, she realized. Both of them were panting with exertion, and Aang was glistening with sweat. She was suddenly aware that their bodies were pressed tightly together, their faces only inches apart. Aang was staring at her mouth, and his eyes darkened, hungry and wild. Without seeming to realize it, he licked his lips, his tongue swiping across the tantalizing fullness of his lower lip.

She crashed down into him, capturing his lips in her own, her mouth already open and wanting. Any doubts she had about him reciprocating her feelings were quickly erased. He surged up into her, just as frantic, held back by the iron grip she had on his wrists. He attempted to pull himself out of her grasp, and for a moment Mai delighted in denying him that, restraining him. The growl he made against her mouth was enough to completely undo her, and she finally released him. His hands instantly went to her hips, grinding her against him. One of her hands went to cradle his jaw, her thumb brushing against the corner of the mouth that was on hers, licking, sucking, biting at her lower lip. Her other hand moved downward, caressing his bare chest.

Mai broke away with a gasp as Aang’s hands began to creep up under the hem of her shirt, exploring her bare stomach and chest, leaving searing hot handprints wherever he touched. He paused as she stared down at him, waiting. His mouth was already swollen and dark pink, and Mai madly realized that she couldn’t stop even if she wanted to.

“Did you lock the door?” she asked huskily, already beginning to roll her hips against him. He stared up at her with half-lidded eyes, before nodding.

* * *

Mai had never thought of herself as being very loud in bed. Then again, she had never had the Avatar’s head between her legs before.

* * *

Afterwards, Mai collapsed on her back on the floor of the training room, Aang’s arm pillowed under her head. They were silent for a few minutes, waiting for their racing hearts to quiet down. She turned to look at him and found that he was already staring at her.

“What?” she asked, suddenly self-conscious at the attention. He smiled and nodded towards hers, brushing her cheek with his nose.

“You’re beautiful,” he murmured. She ducked her head, unable to tell if she was embarrassed or flattered.

“What did you want to talk to me about?” she asked suddenly, remembering their conversation before they had come down to the gym.

“Hmm?”

“Back in our room. You said you wanted to talk.”

Aang huffed a laugh. “I wanted to ask you if you liked me.”

Mai scoffed. “Fine, don’t tell me.”

“I’m serious!” Aang rolled so he was on his side and could look down at her. “I’ve liked you for weeks, and I didn’t know how you felt, and I was finally going to just lay everything out and talk to you about it.”

The absurdity of the situation caught up to Mai, and she covered her face with her hands to keep from giggling like a teenager.

“So?”

Mai pulled her hands away from her face. “So what?”

“Do you like me?”

“You can’t be serious.”

“I am! I think I have a right to know.”

“You’re obnoxious.”

“Answer the question, missy. Do you like me?”

“Less and less every minute.”

“Hmm.” Aang considered that unfortunate turn. “So you just used me for sex then. I see how it is.”

It was clearly a joke, but Mai’s face darkened. “Don’t be a dick,” she said harshly, sitting upright. “Of course not.”

Sensing his misstep, Aang sat up too and enfolded her in his arms. “Hey, I’m sorry,” he said softly, running one hand in a comforting circle on her back. “You’re right, that wasn’t funny.”

Mai buried her face in his shoulder, her lips brushing his collarbone. “I wouldn’t do that to you,” she whispered. She was remembering a conversation in a restaurant, that felt like a million years ago, about sex versus dating. She vividly recalled Aang’s opinion on the difference between the two. 

Aang seemed to be following her train of thought, and he pulled back so he could cup her face between his hands. “I know. And I wouldn’t do that to you either.” With his quiet declaration, Mai _melted_. The sheer tenderness in his gaze and the way his hands ghosted along her jaw made her feel like she was in one of those tacky romance plays. Well, except…

“We should probably go.” None of those sweeping romances involved discussing your feelings while naked on a gym floor, especially not one used by every non-bender in the palace. Mai slowly pulled herself to her still-shaking legs, wincing as her bare skin peeled away from the rubber padding on the floor. The airbender followed suit, and they dressed quickly. Once they were both decent, they headed towards the door. Something caught Mai’s eye and she threw her arm up, preventing Aang from reaching for the lock. Without breaking eye contact, she twisted the handle. The door opened easily. 

“Whoops,” he said breezily, the large grin indicating that he wasn’t sorry at all. “I guess I didn’t lock it.” Before she could say anything, he leaned down and kissed her, this one short and sweet. Mai reckoned she could find it in her heart to forgive him.

* * *

Back in their quarters, both having bathed and changed, Aang was struck with a dilemma. Mai hadn’t said anything about him joining her in his bed for the night. He didn’t want to presume, and he suspected that for her, sharing a bed was a bit more intimate than having sex on the floor of a gym. In their weeks of living together, they had only shared the bed once, and it had been an accident. He hovered in the doorway of the bedroom, peering in at Mai. She had already gotten in her sleeping clothes and was sitting up in bed, reading. He fidgeted there for a minute, then glumly turned to head back to the living room.

“Where do you think you’re going?” His head snapped around at her question; she had placed the book down on her lap and was looking at him, chewing on her lip. It was enough of an invitation that he could meet her in the middle.

“Nowhere,” he said warmly, entering the bedroom and slipping under the sheets on the side of the bed that she had left empty for him. 

“Good,” she said, her shy grin matching his own, before picking up her book to continue reading. Aang scooted over until he was right next to her, then nudged the elbow of the arm holding the book with the top of his head. Mai got the hint and lifted her arm up, allowing Aang to mold himself against her side. He rested his head on her shoulder, one arm draped comfortably over her waist. Mai brought down the arm she had lifted up, her hand falling against Aang’s bicep. She curved her fingers so her nails gently scraped against his skin, and she began lightly moving her hand back and forth across his upper arm, eliciting goosebumps.

“What are you reading?” he inquired, tipping his head to catch a glimpse of the pages of Mai’s book. “Is it for work?”

“No, I read for fun sometimes,” Mai countered sharply, though the soothing movement of her nails against his arm showed that she wasn’t insulted. “It’s about pirates.”

“Mhmm,” Aang murmured sleepily. “Have you ever met any pirates?”

“No, I don’t think I have,” Mai answered, her voice low.

“We should go find some, sometime.” Aang’s voice was muffled as he turned his head into her, breathing in her scent, and Mai hummed in response. Before long, he drifted off to sleep. He wasn’t sure if he was dreaming the light kiss that Mai planted on his forehead, right at the tip of his arrow tattoo.

* * *

As usual, Aang woke up first the next morning. The first thing he was aware of was something tickling his nose. He wrinkled it to dislodge the disturbance, then when that didn’t work he opened his eyes. It was a flyaway from Mai’s hair, one that he gently smoothed back down against her head. She was wrapped up in his arms, her cheek nestled against his bare chest. Her own arms were folded up against herself and tucked in between their bodies, and one of her ankles was captured in between his legs. Aang was captivated by the contrast of her dark eyelashes laying against her pale skin, and without thinking he reached out with one hand and brushed his knuckle against her cheek. She made a very adorable sleepy, mumbling sound. 

Because he could, he ran his fingers over her face again, tracing the outline of her jaw. She shifted, tucking herself further against him. The next grumble she made sounded more like actual words, and Aang leaned in closer. “What was that?”

“I said, I forgot that you’re a morning person,” she groused, her eyes still stubbornly closed. “Go back to sleep.”

Aang hummed contently, and considered taking her up on that. He thought about ignoring the world and all of its problems, and spending the rest of the day in bed with Mai, lazily exploring each other like they had all the time in the world. It was an attractive fantasy, but they both had other obligations for the day.

Still, he could waste a little time in bed.

One of Mai’s arms had snaked out around his waist, holding him close. She finally opened her eyes and tilted her head up to him, and he helpfully bent his head down so she could kiss him. She shifted so she was laying on her back, one of her hands deliciously sliding up along his ribs. She pulled back when he tried to deepen the kiss, dragging a needy whine from him.

“If I have to wake up early, you have to make tea,” she demanded, already pulling the blanket back around her in a cocoon.

“Bossy,” he huffed, swooping down to give her one last kiss before he swung his legs out of bed. 

He was halfway through preparing the tea when a pair of arms curled around him. Mai pliantly fitted herself against his back, the side of her face cushioned between his shoulder blades. “Tired,” she grumbled, dragging her feet to stay attached to him as he moved around the kitchen.

“Why don’t you go back to bed then?”

“It’s cold without you.”

She couldn’t see his face, which meant that he didn’t have to hide his goofy, saccharine smile. He took a deep breath and exhaled slowly, allowing his breath of fire to warm his body and the air around them. Mai sighed blissfully, and tightened her hold on him. Aang supposed he could get used to _this_ morning Mai, who was just as grouchy but much more cuddly. 

She finally released him when he finished making their tea, settling into her usual chair and clasping the warm mug between her hands. The rest of the morning passed the way that all of their mornings did. They drank tea, they argued over what he should make for breakfast, he stood behind her in the washroom and braided her hair. It was hilarious how little they had to shift now that they were together, to the point that Aang kept finding excuses to touch her, to remind himself that the previous evening hadn’t been an extremely vivid daydream. He dotted Mai with kisses whenever he could, on her face, her shoulders, her hands. When he was brushing her hair, he swept all of it over her shoulder and pressed his lips to the back of her neck. She shivered at the touch, and he couldn’t help but flick his tongue behind the back of her ear. 

“Evil,” she whispered hoarsely, twisting in her chair so she could thwart his teasing by kissing him. He couldn’t say that he minded all that much.

Finally, somehow, they both got cleaned up and dressed for the day. Aang noticed, with a thrill, that she was wearing the earrings he had made for her. He idly speculated on what she’d look like wearing _just_ the earrings, then realized that was a very real possibility for later that day. Already he was kicking himself for not talking to Mai sooner, thinking of all the time that they had wasted.

“Where are you going?” Mai frowned, her third mug of tea clutched in her hands. 

“I’m supposed to meet with Katara, there’s still a lot of work to be done at the river,” Aang answered, one hand already on the front door. 

“You’re meeting now?”

“Yes?” The statement came out as a question.

“Oh.” Mai set her teacup down on the kitchen counter and crossed her arms. “I don’t have to go to work until this afternoon. I thought we’d have more time here this morning. Together.”

“Oh.” It clicked. “ _Oh._ ” He hesitated, biting his lip. “I really should head out, Katara’s expecting me soon.”

She leaned suggestively over the counter, quirking an eyebrow. “I guess if you really have to go...” she goaded, that sly smirk dancing across her mouth, and Aang might be a monk but he was still very, very weak.

He was at the counter and had his hands around her in a flash. He felt giddy, almost light-headed, as she eagerly met his kiss, her own arms draped around his neck. When they were both standing up he was too tall, and he maneuvered them so her back was against the kitchen table. She obligingly hopped up to sit on it, opening her legs so he could step in between them. She was hungrily, insistently pulling him towards her, so he had to waste one hand bracing himself on the table so he didn’t completely fall over. The other hand was put to much better use cradling the back of her head, fingers tangled in her previously immaculate hair. He experimentally tugged, just a little, and the keening sound she made against his mouth made all the blood in his body rush out of his brain.

It took every ounce of his willpower to take a step back and break the kiss, already panting. Mai frowned and pulled him back into her. 

“Spirits Mai, this isn’t fair,” he pleaded, his mouth only just out of reach. “You’re supposed to be the reasonable one.”

“I don’t think I agreed to that.”

“Please be merciful, Katara will kill me if I’m late, then you’re going to wait 20 years for your new Avatar boyfriend.”

Mai drew back, eyes wide. “Boyfriend?”

“Well, yeah. Unless you didn’t want to…” Aang fumbled, hoping he hadn’t overstepped. 

“No, I...I want to.” She was still holding him close to her, her legs bracketing his hips.

“Okay, good.” He smoothed a hand over her hair, straightening out the mess he had made of it. “We’ll talk more about it later today, okay?”

“Just talk?” she queried, her innocent tone entirely at odds with the fact that her fingers were hooked in the waistband of his pants.

Aang chuckled, risking one last cheeky kiss before he stepped out of her grasp. “No, not _just_ talk. But some talk.”

Mai heaved a sigh and hopped down from the table, readjusting her skirt that had gotten hiked up around her thighs. “Fine. Have fun at your meeting.” She pulled him into a hug, put her mouth right by his ear, and whispered, “I’m going to eat the last fruit tart,” before letting him go. He fondly rolled his eyes and allowed himself one last glance back before he shut the door behind him.

* * *

Zuko was alone in the office when Aang dashed in, braced for Katara to scold him for being late. His relief quickly turned to irritation as he waited five, ten, then fifteen minutes with no sign of the waterbender. He usually wasn’t too concerned with punctuality, but every second he was standing here waiting was a second that he could be with Mai, alone, in their bedroom. He impatiently paced across the office, his agitation causing the papers on both desks to flutter into  
the air. After chasing down yet another scroll that got caught up in a whirlwind of air, Zuko put out a hand to stop Aang.

“Why don’t we go find out where Katara’s gone?” he suggested, steering Aang out the door and down the hallway. “She was almost ready when I left, I guess something held her up.”

Aang first began to grow uneasy when they rounded a corner and three of the palace guards were huddled together, whispering frantically. One of them spotted Zuko and blanched, and the group quickly split apart. More people started running past them, until Zuko grabbed a random guard by the elbow.

“What’s going on?” he commanded, an edge of panic in his voice.

“Fire Lord Zuko,” the guard visibly gulped, trembling in his grip. “There’s...ah...we’ve been looking for you. There seems to be an issue in the royal bedchamber with Fire Lady Katara.”

Zuko dropped the woman’s arm and sprinted down the hall, Aang right behind him. The guards stationed outside his bedroom door snapped to attention. The door was ajar, and there were voices coming from inside.

“Somebody tell me what’s going on!” Zuko practically shouted, though he was long past the age that he easily lost his temper. He pushed open his bedroom door and saw that there were more guards inside, looking at something on the table.

Fire Lord,” one of the maids, Sai, spoke up, wringing her hands together. “I came by to change the sheets and tidy up, and I found that.” She pointed to a rolled-up scroll on the table, careful to keep her hand away from it, as if she were afraid to touch it. “Then I saw that the window was broken, and the Fire Lady is nowhere to be found.”

With clumsy fingers, Zuko picked up the scroll, showing Aang the seal. It was red wax, with a large bird pressed into it. “A phoenix,” he said flatly. Aang suddenly grew cold, and his vision seemed to have receded and gone blurry around the edges. He could barely see Zuko rip open the scroll and scan it, his golden eyes darting across the paper. 

“It says he has them.” The scroll began to smoke around the edges, and Zuko dropped it before he could burn it to ash. “Daichi has them.”

Aang’s mouth flopped open uselessly, unable to fully comprehend what was happening. Then it hit him.

_Daichi has them._

_Them._

Aang tore back down the hallway, ignoring the startled shouts from behind him. He ran so fast a tornado churned in his wake, slamming doors and ripping paintings off the walls. He burst into his room, where Mai should be drinking tea and reading at the kitchen table. She should have looked up with that deadpan expression and asked what exactly he thought he was doing, making such a racket so early in the morning. She should have laughed when he sauntered over to kiss her on the forehead, tell her that Katara was playing a prank on them, that everything was okay.

The suite was empty. The window was shattered, broken glass glittering on the floor. In the middle of the table was a scroll with a blood red seal, pinned to the wood with a Yuyan arrow.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> .....Anyway.


	9. you’re looking for your shadow

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A FEW THINGS!!  
> 1) Sorry for the delay, as many of you are aware, the world is ending, and I spent most of August and September in a poisonous smoke cloud. I didn’t have to evacuate or anything, but toxic air makes it very hard to sit down and focus on writing.  
> 2) Chapter count went up AGAIN, I know. This chapter was getting out of hand and I figured it’d be better to split it up and get an update out now rather than deliver a 16k chapter in 3 months. So we get half now and half later!

The only thing Mai could register at first was the pain. It started in her head and spidered down her body, through her arms and wrists, down to the soles of her feet. She groaned and shifted, trying to make sense of the weight that was holding her down.

“Oh good, you’re awake.” The voice was far too calm, and it made the whole situation feel that much weirder. The fog in her mind began to clear, and she cracked an eye open, grateful (for the moment) that wherever she was was dimly lit and she didn’t have to worry about being blinded.

“I’m awake,” Mai echoed. “Unfortunately.” Her eyes adjusted to the low light and she became aware that her inability to move was not just due to her dulled brain, but because her hands and feet were bound. She was sitting upright and could see her ankles, tightly wrapped in a truly excessive amount of rope. Her hands were painfully tied up behind her, and as she experimentally moved her shoulders she realized that she was actually tied to another person. This person was the one who had spoken, but Mai couldn’t quite place her voice yet.

“Are you okay?” the mystery woman inquired. She was in a similar position to Mai, and they had been placed back to back with their hands wrapped together. Mai craned her neck behind her as far as she could and caught a flash of dark skin and long, curly hair.

“Katara?” she rasped, her throat full of sand.

“Yes, it’s me. Are you okay?” 

“I think so.” Mai took stock of her body; other than a general, overall ache, she seemed fine. Definitely no broken bones. “What’s going on?”

“If I had to guess, I’d say we’ve been kidnapped,” Katara replied dryly. 

Even though the other woman wouldn’t be able to see it, Mai rolled her eyes. “Yeah, no kidding.” Her vision slowly cleared and she was able to scan their surroundings. They were in a large metal cube, the only light coming from a row of holes drilled near the ceiling. It was a shipping container, Mai realized, one of hundreds that were stored in the warehouse district. If someone were looking for them, they would be searching a long, long time.

“Do you remember anything?” Katara broke through Mai’s reverie.

Mai frowned, racking her still-cloudy mind for her most recent memories. “Not really. I was in the kitchen, and Aang had left to meet with you. I think I heard the window breaking. But that’s it.”

Katara sighed. “My memory is about the same. We must have been drugged.”

“Shit. Can you bend?”

She could feel Katara’s fingers wiggling against her hands. “No, not tied up like this.” 

Mai fought back the anxiety that threatened to overwhelm her. It wouldn’t do either of them any good. She tested the rope around her wrists, pulling and twisting her arms to see if she could stretch it out and escape. But the rope was too thick, wrapped too many times around her, and had no give. 

They were well and truly fucked.

The scrape of a key against the rusty metal of the lock got both of their attention. Mai’s instinct to panic only grew when the unmistakable form of the Yuyan archer stepped through the door. Aiya’s face was expressionless as she appraised the captives, roughly shoving them around to check their bindings. She put one callused hand against Mai’s forehead, tilting her head back and intently studying her eyes. Mai’s breath caught when the hand moved to her neck, but Aiya simply pressed a finger to the hollow of her throat. Perplexed, Mai eventually realized that the archer was checking to see if she had recovered from the drugs used to incapacitate her. 

Apparently satisfied with Mai’s recovery, Aiya moved to do the same inspection of Katara. The waterbender was a lot more vocal than Mai had been, loudly demanding that Aiya either let them go or explain herself. When Aiya moved her hand to check Katara’s pulse, Mai’s body was yanked back as Katara lunged forward, her teeth snapping as she bit down on empty air. Aiya had jerked her hand out of the way at the last minute, then casually backhanded Katara across the face. Mai winced at the sound, and at the resulting _thunk_ of Katara’s head clanging against her own. She couldn’t help but admire the Fire Lady’s audacity, though she wished that it wasn’t putting both of their lives in danger. 

Luckily, it appeared that they were more valuable alive, for now. Aiya didn’t retaliate further, only circled the pair once, a dismissive sneer on her face. Something about that look irritated Mai enough that she finally spoke up.

“It’s not going to work.” Aiya tilted her head, clearly not expecting further commentary. “Whatever you think taking us is going to do, it’s not going to work. The Fire Lord cares about his nation, he’s not going to surrender it to a bunch of lowly criminals.” 

Aiya leaned down, her tattooed face only inches from Mai’s. Her eyes were dark, almost black, and so intense that Mai was sure they were burning holes in her skin.

“Good.” Aiya’s voice was lighter than Mai would have expected. “I look forward to killing you.” 

The resulting stillness after Aiya left was torturous. It took a while before Mai could breathe again, sure that the archer would change her mind and return with a vengeance. 

“Are you okay?” Mai was startled that Katara would ask that question first, since she wasn’t the one who had been hit. 

“I’m fine. Been better.” Apparently, even in the face of certain death, Mai still found the time to try to be funny. “What about you? That sounded like it hurt.”

Katara huffed out a single, pained laugh. “I’m fine, that was nothing.” Mai felt Katara twist behind her, as though she were trying to look over her shoulder. “You can’t possibly believe that Zuko would leave us here to keep his crown.”

“No, that was a bluff. He’s absolutely going to do whatever they tell him to do to get you back.” Mai was a little surprised that none of the bitterness that had lingered over her for the past five years was in her voice. Maybe she had finally had enough time to get over it, or maybe her brain was willing to let it go to fret over more pressing concerns. It was possible that her sleeping with Katara’s ex the day before had a little something to do with it too.

“Well, we better find a way to get out of here before it comes to that,” Katara said practically, straightening her back and attempting to move her arms again. “I don’t suppose you have any knives with you?”

Mai was about to say no, but she froze. Since she had broken up with Zuko and ceased being a target, she had given up on carrying knives with her everywhere. After getting tangled up in this Phoenix Authority coup, she had resumed arming herself, not wanting to be caught unawares. She had also gotten back into an old habit, which even Zuko had thought was a little paranoid. 

The knives she had tucked away in her clothes that morning were gone; she had obviously been searched before she had been tied up. She managed to get the edge of her sleeve between her thumb and forefinger, and inched it between her fingertips until they encountered a hard, flat object sewn into the hem. She grinned.

“Actually…”

* * *

The air began to swirl ominously around the room. Aang stared at the arrow piercing the note on the dining table, fervently wishing that it would disappear with each blink. Instead, with his wrath focused on it, the arrow snapped in half. The shards of glass from the broken window rattled against the floor. He fought back the rage and fear that clawed up his throat, burdened by the knowledge that Mai would not let herself be taken without a fight.

Alive, that was.

A hand clamped over his wrist and he jumped. The gusts reacted with him, increasing in speed enough that the dining room chairs slid across the floor. Zuko steadily met his gaze, his firm grip grounding and steadying him. The wind died down, the suite feeling suffocatingly quiet in its absence. 

“Are you alright?” Zuko asked, quietly. Palace guards were cautiously stepping into the room, unsure if they would be welcome. Aang caught the eye of a young woman, just barely old enough to be working, peeking in from the doorway, her eyes wide at the power Aang had unconsciously unleashed. He smiled reassuringly at her and she returned it, hesitant. Zuko was still holding onto him, pale and with concern etched into the lines of his face. 

“I’m fine,” Aang lied, turning the smile on his friend. Zuko was not as easily fooled as the guard, and his frown deepened. “They’ll be okay,” he added, his instincts prompting him to try to assuage Zuko’s fear, even though they both knew that they had no way of knowing that. 

Aang finally made his way over to the hateful note, still secured to the table. He viciously ripped out the remains of the arrow, sure that it was intended to taunt him; there hadn’t been an arrow in Zuko’s room. He fidgeted with the rolled-up parchment, loathe to read it and confirm his worst fears. Zuko gently plucked it from his hand and unfurled it, his eyes flickering back and forth as he read. 

“She’s alive,” he said, and Aang’s shoulders sagged in relief. “They both are.”

Zuko started to elaborate, but was distracted by a huddle of four guards circled around something on the floor. They straightened and separated at his approach, allowing the Fire Lord and the Avatar to see what they were looking at. It was a small wooden dart, its trailing edge decorated with a tuft of red feathers. Zuko stretched one hand out to pick it up, eliciting shouts of alarm from the guards. He froze, his fingers still twitching with his willful inclination to touch everything.

“I wouldn’t, my lord,” one guard spoke up, sounding apologetic. “It’s likely poisoned.” Aang nodded his head in understanding. Neither Katara nor Mai would be easily beaten in a fight, but if someone broke the window and drugged them before they had a chance to react...

Information began to trickle from various palace employees who were doggedly working to piece together what had happened. Aang and Zuko migrated to the royal chambers, evidence piling up on the living room table. There were the two notes, the arrow that had been left in Aang’s room, and a scrap of black fabric that had gotten caught on one of the broken windows. Another dart had been found in Zuko and Katara’s room, and a healer had confirmed that it was coated in a drug that would quickly incapacitate its victim. It appeared to have been a coordinated effort by a small team of attackers. The palace guards outside had been knocked out by the darts as well, and were now in the infirmary. Katara and Mai were taken simultaneously, by someone who had broken the window and dosed them in only a few seconds, before disappearing with their targets. Zuko’s hands were clenched tightly in the fabric of his heavy robes, his knuckles white. Aang was unable to sit still, roaming throughout Zuko’s quarters and out into the hallway, hoping against hope that someone had seen _something_ that would help them find the missing women. It was a futile hope; somehow, they had just disappeared into thin air. 

As he passed by the table, Aang picked up the notes that the kidnapper’s had left and reread them, though by this point he could probably recite their contents from memory. The Phoenix Authority had taken the “traitors” (their words) and would only return them if Zuko abdicated the throne and he and Aang agreed to leave the Fire Nation forever. If they did so, the women would be returned unharmed, and the four of them would be allowed to leave Caldera City alive. He had set a time to meet Zuko and Aang down the main street in front of the palace to share their decision, and insisted that they show up alone. Daichi’s pompous, formal attempt at civility made Aang’s stomach curl; behind his polite words was the implicit threat that if Zuko and Aang did not agree to his terms, they would never see Katara and Mai again. 

“We need a plan.”

Zuko groaned, his head now in his hands. “We don’t have time for a plan. Daichi wants us to decide—”

“By noon, I know,” Aang finished. “We have an hour and a half to decide the entire fate of the Fire Nation.”

“We’ve sent out hawks to the rest of the council, but they’ll never be able to get here in time to come up with a strategy,” Zuko said helplessly. “There’s not enough time.”

Aang collapsed in a chair next to Zuko, the energy suddenly drained from him. “I was there,” he murmured, more to himself than to Zuko. “I was there, in the room, minutes before it happened.” That morning, which seemed like it happened days instead of hours ago, replayed itself in his mind. Waking up with Mai cradled in his arms, being able to touch and kiss her the way he’d wanted to for weeks. Her doing everything in her power to keep him there, with her. 

Him leaving anyway. 

“Me too,” Zuko replied hollowly, unaware of Aang’s introspective guilt. “We were here, and I was impatient to get started, and Katara told me to go to work without her.” He took a deep breath and let it out slowly, flames wavering around his lips when he did so. “And Mai...Agni, she’s already been through so much because of me.”

Aang cleared his throat. “I think Mai is my fault,” he confessed. Either because he didn’t pick up on the implication or because he was too worried to care, Zuko didn’t ask for Aang to explain himself. “They’ll be okay,” he changed the subject, clasping Zuko around his shoulder in a half-hug. “Daichi needs them alive to get to us, and they are not going to make it easy to keep them locked up. I mean, how many times has Katara broken out of prison?” Zuko’s mouth unwillingly quirked into a smile, the way Aang knew it would. “I guarantee, they’re working on an escape plan as we speak.”

* * *

It had only taken a second to cut a hole in the fabric of Mai’s sleeve with the small razor she had hidden in it. Nobody was ever allowed to call her paranoid again, she decided, about sewing the nearly-invisible blades into her clothing. She had gotten into the habit when she was living at the palace the first time with Zuko, aware that she was known for her knife throwing and keen to have at least a few secret tricks (literally) up her sleeve. The razor was right where she had placed it a month ago, obviously undetected by her kidnappers. She was now working to slice through the rope binding her and Katara’s hands together. It was slow going, the blade was difficult to grip, and she was taking extra care to avoid all of their fingers. Katara had tried to strike up a conversation a few times, but Mai was not prone to idle chatter at the best of times, let alone when she was concentrating on something. The waterbender had lapsed into silence, but it was clear that she was getting fidgety. 

“What’s going on with you and Aang?” 

Mai jolted at the question, almost dropping the razor. The answer she had always given before, _nothing,_ sprang to her lips, but that certainly wasn’t true anymore. Something about the situation, either the fear of being held hostage or the pounding in her head from the aftereffects of the drugs, made her answer honestly. “I don’t know.”

Katara stiffened. “You don’t know? Did something happen?”

“Kind of.”

“Something bad?”

“No.”

“Something good?”

“I think so.”

“Did you guys kiss?”

Silence.

“More than kiss?”

More silence.

“Did you… _no_.” Katara twisted as far as she could to look at Mai, enough that Mai could see her incredulous grin. “Did you sleep together?”

“Stop moving, you’re going to make me lose my spot and I’ll have to start over.”

“Mai.”

“I’m concentrating.”

“Mai!”

“Yes.”

“Yes?”

“Yes.”

“Yes!” Katara crowed, followed by muttering that sounded suspiciously like “ _Toph owes me money._ ”

“What was that?” Mai asked tersely.

“Nothing,” Katara said quickly. “I’m happy for you guys though.”

“You don’t sound surprised.”

“I’m not, you two weren’t really subtle.”

Mai’s ears burned with the realization that the entire palace had probably been watching her moon over Aang for the past few months. “Oh.”

Perhaps sensing Mai’s embarrassment, Katara tried to reassure her. “I mean, it’s not a bad thing! I think it’s cute. Aang’s been in love with you for ages—”

“What?” Mai’s hand slipped and she nicked the tip of her finger with the razor. She winced as blood began to seep out of the scratch, adjusting her grip on the now-slippery metal blade.

The tense quiet from Katara only made Mai more nervous. “Did...he not tell you?”

“Tell me what? That he’s _in love_ with me?”

“Well, yeah. But he...and the two of you…” Mai could practically see Katara’s furrowed brow, trying to work through the information she was suddenly being given. “Did you guys not talk?” 

If Mai thought she was blushing before, she was on fire now. “Not really.”

Katara tilted her head back, and it thumped painfully against the back of Mai’s skull. “I’m confused.”

Mai wondered which of her crimes she was being punished for, to be kidnapped and tied to her boyfriend’s ex, having to explain to her how they hooked up. “We were sparring in the gym yesterday, and I pinned him down, and one thing kind of led to another. There wasn’t a lot of talking.”

“The _gym_?”

Mai bristled at her disapproving tone. “I don’t really need your judgement right now.”

“Okay, I’m not _judging,_ I’m just processing. Which gym?”

“Does it matter?”

“I mean, it was in the palace, right? So it is technically _my_ gym.”

“You know—”

“And other people use those gyms, at the very least I’ll need to have it sanitized—”

“Agni, we didn’t—”

“The palace has literally dozens of private rooms, I just don’t understand—”

“It wasn’t a conscious decision, trust me—”

“Did you guys at least lock the door? He’s always been terrible with that—”

“Stop it!” Mai shouted, loud enough that it echoed around the metal walls of their prison. Taking a deep breath, she continued through gritted teeth. “Maybe we don’t talk for a while.”

Katara descended into sulky silence, which Mai vastly preferred to her talking. She savagely resumed hacking at the rope, somewhat less concerned about cutting Katara than she had been before. She scolded herself for letting Katara’s words affect her; the waterbender had never really liked her, and Mai had never blamed her for it. Mai was tolerated in their lives for Zuko’s sake, and more recently for Aang’s. It was her own fault for telling the truth about Aang, why that would be Katara’s business was beyond her, unless Katara wanted them both—

“I’m sorry.” The apology cut through Mai’s inner turmoil, dragging her back into the present moment. Which was a shame, because the present moment was still pretty terrible. “You’re right, I was being judgmental.” Katara sighed. “Look, I know you hate me—”

“I don’t hate you,” Mai interrupted, startled.

“You don’t?” Katara asked, equally startled.

“No, of course not. Why would I hate you?” Katara didn’t respond, and Mai sighed in frustration. “What, Zuko? You think I’m still hung up on Zuko?”

“Yes. No. Maybe,” Katara floundered. “I don’t know, maybe not in love with him, but you’ve always been cold to me, even when I’ve tried to reach out and connect with you.”

“I’m cold to everyone.”

“You know what I mean.”

Mai did know what she meant. “It’s not you, it’s never been you.” She paused to collect her thoughts. “I have a lot of bad memories associated with that palace. And I needed time to recover and heal and not just be Zuko’s ex-girlfriend, and he didn’t give me that time.”

“He just wanted to make sure that you guys still had a good relationship.”

“I know, but still. I needed to be mad at him, and I couldn’t do that when he was suffocating me with his guilt.” 

“I guess I understand,” Katara hummed, dropping her head forward. “I suppose I did the same thing to Aang, right?”

Mai hummed in amusement. “Yeah.”

“Shit.”

“Honestly, I’ve always thought you hated me.”

“What? No! I was _maybe_ a little jealous.”

“Jealous? Of me?”

“Um, yeah. Zuko adores you, he talks about you all the time. I spent a year thinking he was going to dump me to be with you again.”

“He talked about his ex-girlfriend to his current girlfriend? What an idiot.”

“I know!”

The two women laughed, the sound entirely at odds with the bleakness of their situation.

“Well, I don’t hate you.”

“I don’t hate you either.”

Mai hesitated, but she doubted they would ever have a moment of brutal honesty like this again. Besides, she reasoned, there was a very good chance they wouldn’t survive the day; no reason to go out with things left unsaid. “If anything, I’m grateful to you. You make Zuko happy, and that’s all I’ve ever wanted for him.”

“Thank you.” She could hear the smile in Katara’s voice. “And I am glad about you and Aang. He’s lucky to have you.”

“Thanks.” Mai’s hands stilled. “I don’t know what to do, though.”

“Hmm?”

“With Aang. Once all this is over with, he’s going to leave. I don’t want to sit around waiting for him.” 

“Spirits, how are two of the smartest people I know so clueless?”

“Hey!”

“When he leaves, go with him. What’s keeping you here in the city?”

Mai wanted to argue but she couldn’t, because Katara was right and she was very, very stupid. She had nothing truly holding her in Caldera City. Zuko and the palace were fine without her, neither her family nor her job really needed her. She thought about flying on Appa and seeing the world shrink below her. She entertained a fantasy about the future, in the sky bison’s saddle with Aang, far from the Fire Nation, watching the stars glide by above her. She saw another vision of herself growing old, alone, and bitter in Caldera City. She knew which one she wanted.

“Maybe I am also an idiot.”

“That’s okay, Aang has that effect on people. You should see when him and my brother get together.”

There was just one more thing. “Did you mean what you said before?”

“About what?”

“Aang being...in love with me?”

“Nope, I’m not saying another word until you bust us out of here.” Mai groaned at Katara’s smug tone, having forgotten how truly insufferable she could be.

“Come on!”

“Chop chop! If Zuko gives anything up because we took too long to escape I’m going to be furious.”

Mai grumbled under her breath, but she redoubled her efforts to cut through the bindings around their hands. With her newfound focus, the rope finally snapped. They gave matching sighs of relief, pulling their arms in front of them and massaging the rope burns that circled their wrists. It was a few minutes before Mai could really feel her hands enough to untie her feet, but she determinedly pulled herself up on legs still wobbly from the sedative. Katara was doing the same thing, though she was smart enough to brace herself against a wall. Mai used her newfound mobility to remove the other razors she had sewn into her clothes, tucking them into a pocket along with the bloody one she had used to free them. They weren’t the best for throwing, but they would serve until she was able to help herself to some weapons from Daichi’s goons. 

“Ready?” Katara had moved to stand by the door, a dangerous glint in her eyes. One side of her face was beginning to swell up from Aiya’s slap, and it made her look even more manic and terrifying. Something in her expression told Mai to step behind her, out of her way. Mai nodded, and Katara swirled her arms gracefully in front of her. The skin on Mai’s face and hands pulled tight as all the moisture was sucked out of the air, drawn into a ball of water between Katara’s hands. She flashed a feral grin at Mai. “Let’s get out of here.”

* * *

They still had no real plan, but they also didn’t have a choice. The concept of abandoning Katara and Mai to their fate never even crossed their minds. And so, with little else to go on than finding out where the women were and trying to talk Daichi out of completing the coup, Aang and Zuko walked out the front gate of the palace. A battalion of guards followed and lined up at the gate, but Aang and Zuko would be meeting Daichi alone. Ideas had been tossed around about having some of the guards accompany them in secret, but Zuko had stood firm that they would go unaccompanied. He didn’t want to risk them being found out and having Katara suffer for it. Aang had agreed wholeheartedly, assuring the palace staff that him and the Fire Lord were more than capable of handling it themselves. Nobody was encouraged by this, but they were used to Zuko’s stubbornness and relented.

Daichi was already at the meeting site, hands clasped behind his back, at the head of a dozen stone-faced supporters. Aang scanned the members of the Phoenix Authority, but he didn’t recognize any of them. Most importantly, the Yuyan archer wasn’t present. Aang could only assume that she was guarding Mai and Katara.

“Fire Lord Zuko, Avatar Aang,” Daichi addressed them, slightly inclining his head and speaking in a way that their formal titles sounded like insults. They stopped a few yards from the insurgents, refusing to return the greeting. Aang had his glider clutched in one hand, and Zuko had his twin dao blades strapped to his back. Dachi glanced over them, but said nothing about the weapons.

“I see we are completely forfeiting common courtesy today,” Daichi drawled when it was clear that neither man would speak. “Very well then. Let me start by saying that the Fire Lady and your little friend with the knives are being held somewhere in the city, guarded closely by my second-in-command. She will kill them in one hour, unless I personally tell her otherwise.”

Aang inwardly cursed, infuriated that the slimy man before him would put Katara and Mai’s lives at risk to save his own neck.

“I want to see them,” Zuko ordered. “I refuse to negotiate until I know that my wife is alive and well.”

A slow, lazy smile spread across Daichi’s face. “That’s not how this works,” he chided, clicking his tongue. “I swear, on my honor, they are currently alive and well. After an hour, I can no longer make that promise.”

Zuko growled in frustration, but there was little they could do.

“I expect you want proof,” Daichi continued, sounding amused, and held out his hands in front of him. In one was Katara’s crown, a small golden flame that complemented the one in Zuko’s topknot. In the other…

Aang’s breath caught, for in his other hand were the blue obsidian earrings he had made for Mai’s birthday. The ones she had been wearing when he said goodbye to her that morning. 

“What do you want?” he asked, his voice tight with anger. Daichi raised an eyebrow.

“I want to return the Fire Nation to its rightful glory,” he answered. “I want Zuko to legally relinquish his throne to me, and for all of you to leave the Fire Nation forever.” 

“What makes you think we’ll give in to your demands?” Zuko was half-shouting, his eyes still glued to the crown in Daichi’s hand. 

“Think of it like a test.” Daichi’s smooth, condescending tone was beginning to grate on Aang’s nerves. “If your loyalty is to the Fire Nation first, you’ll arrest or kill me. If your loyalty is to that Water Tribe whore, then you don’t deserve to wear that crown.” 

“That’s ridiculous,” Zuko snarled, his hands flaring briefly into flames. “How does loving my wife make me unfit to be Fire Lord?” Aang winced, sourly marveling at how Daichi was able to perfectly nail all of Zuko’s insecurities. 

Daichi’s cool demeanor slipped for a moment as he sneered. “You are embarrassingly blinded by lust, to have allowed that interloper to become so involved in the inner workings of the Fire Nation.” He shrugged carelessly. “Though truthfully, I don’t care about her beyond using her to get your attention. I wouldn’t have had to involve the Fire Lady, if you hadn’t banned Agni Kais. I could have challenged you directly instead of going through all,” Daichi waved one hand dismissively in the air. “this. It’s nothing personal, you see. Your inefficacy has driven us to these extreme measures.”

Aang was quickly tiring of these games, but something Daichi said struck a chord. “Why take Mai then?” he asked. “What does she have to do with any of this?”

Daichi shrugged. “I’ll admit, that one was a bit personal.” His oily grin made Aang’s blood run cold. “The two of you have made yourselves something of an....inconvenience, the past few months. Besides, we thought the matched set would provide a little more leverage.” He tilted his head, his gaze challenging. “Which one _are_ you here for?”

“Can’t you see this for what it is?” Aang ignored the question and addressed the dozen or so people who were silently waiting behind Daichi. “He doesn’t care about the Fire Nation, he just wants all that power for himself. I guarantee, the only one who will benefit from Daichi being the Fire Lord is Daichi.”

Aang hadn’t been hoping for much from his desperate plea, but even so it was disheartening that not a single person in the line even exchanged a doubting glance. His half-baked plan to turn the members of the Phoenix Authority against each other had amounted to nothing. 

“I expected so little, but that was pitiful,” Daichi scoffed. “Every member of the Phoenix Authority has a place in the new Fire Nation to restore it to its former glory. What would you know of loyalty to a nation, Avatar?” The words hit Aang like a physical blow to the chest. “You think squandering your time gallivanting across the world interfering in every nation’s business brings balance to the world? Pathetic.” 

Before Aang could speak, Zuko interrupted. “Aang has done more to bring honor and justice to the Fire Nation in ten years than you could do in one hundred!” he thundered. “Regardless of what happens here today, you will never be able to undo that. The people of the Fire Nation have learned from our past mistakes.”

“I guess we’ll see,” Daichi sighed, as though he were growing bored. “Have you made a decision yet? Your lovely ladies are running out of time, it would be a shame if something happened to them due to your pointless posturing.”

Aang and Zuko looked to each other with matching, panicked expressions. They were no closer to changing the course of the coup, and the kidnapped women were rapidly running out of time. Handing control of the Fire Nation over to this egomaniac was unacceptable, but so was leaving Katara and Mai in his hands.

An explosion caused everyone to duck, and flashes of red and blue lit up the rapidly darkening sky. Aang frantically cast about for the new threat, anxious about whatever superweapon Daichi had snuck in to use against them. But every member of the Phoenix Authority looked as surprised as Aang, and they were all looking in the same direction. Aang followed their line of sight to the edge of Caldera City. Over the rim of the dormant volcano, igniting and shrieking as they took flight every second, were....

“Fireworks,” Aang murmured, captivated by the display. The fireworks were being set off in quick succession, casting a beautiful multi-colored show over the city. Daichi was pale as milk, his upper lip quivering. Several of his men took off, sprinting in the direction of the fireworks. 

“It’s them,” Zuko sounded awed, clutching Aang’s arm in an iron grip. “Katara and Mai, they escaped. It has to be them.”

Daichi took a step back as both Aang and Zuko turned their undivided attention back on him. Zuko let go of Aang to pull the dao swords off his back, allowing fire to hiss and sizzle along the blades. 

“I think,” Aang said evenly, a piercingly cold wind beginning to whip along the cobblestone streets, swirling fallen leaves into mini tornados and whipping the edges of their clothing. “You just lost your leverage.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Feel free to come say hi to me on tumblr or ask questions, I love hearing from yall! Also thank you all again for the lovely comments!


	10. your hand forever’s all I want

It only took a few seconds for Katara to fill the lock with water, freeze it, then kick it until it shattered and the door swung open. The two startled guards posted outside were quickly incapacited by a flurry of ice shards to the face and a punch in the gut, respectively. Mai swiftly ran her hands down the body of the man who was groaning and clutching his stomach, coming up with a wickedly sharp dagger the length of her forearm. Not perfect, but better than nothing. She glanced over at the man that Katara had knocked out, but didn’t have time to search him as well. Katara was already on the move, climbing up the side of the shipping container they had been kept in. It was a good call; from the ground, they could only see the blank, corrugated metal walls of other containers, with no real sense of where they were or how many people were guarding them.

Mai flew up the ladder after Katara, cursing when she realized exactly where they were. The shipping yard near the rim of the dormant volcano that housed the capitol was used to load and unload the metal containers that were transported by train to the harbor. It was about a mile from the palace, too far to shout or run to get Zuko’s attention. 

A yell came from the ground, drawing their attention to the most immediate problem, which was the retinue of rebels that Daichi had left to watch over the captives. Mai was a little honored that they were considered dangerous enough to warrant so much attention, but it would make getting out of here that much harder. None of the other shipping containers were close enough for them to run from one to the other, probably to discourage exactly that. They would have to climb back down and fight their way out. 

“I really hate it here,” she muttered dryly as she went back down the ladder. On the ground, Mai thought they could use the confusing maze of shipping containers to their advantage. “We should run,” she said as Katara lightly jumped down next to her. “They’ll split up to look for us, and we can take them out a few at a time.”

“Good idea,” Katara agreed, darting off and leaving Mai to follow behind her again. They almost immediately ran into three of their guards, who had come around from the back side of the container that had been kept in. Katara swirled her hands in the air and drew out enough water to coat her fingertips, which she froze and threw at the closest person. Mai threw her newly-acquired dagger then ran after it, the knife driving into her target’s leg only seconds before she kicked the new injury, causing the man to collapse with a pained groan. She went to retake the dagger and was intercepted by flames; the remaining insurgent was a firebender who was aiming for Mai’s hands. The fire sputtered across her fingertips and Mai jerked her hand back, the sudden sharp pain leaving her light-headed. The firebender smirked and moved to burn her again, when a leash of water curled around his neck and dragged him backwards. Mai had just enough time to shoot a grateful glance at Katara as she retook her knife, wiping the blood on the still-whining man’s shirt and dutifully ignoring the pain in her hands. 

After their near miss, Katara wordlessly allowed Mai to take the lead. She kept an ear out for the muffled communication between the people that were trying to track them down, trying to avoid them while still moving in the direction of the palace. They encountered a few more of the mutineers and dispatched them as quickly and quietly as they could. Katara was mumbling about their slow progress, but there wasn’t much else they could do. They weren’t near any big bodies of water, so Katara was fully reliant on whatever moisture she could pull from the air. Mai was frustrated to find that none of the people they took down had weapons that she could easily throw, and she was stuck with the large dagger. She was slowly losing her razors, and having to rely more on hand-to-hand combat, which resulted in a shallow cut on her leg and a throbbing migraine from a blow to her head.

Time was slipping away from them, and every second they spent sneaking around was time that Zuko and Aang would be talking themselves into surrendering. However Aang felt about her, Mai knew that he didn’t have the political savvy to leave anyone he cared about in the hands of the enemy. And Zuko, for all his years of experience as Fire Lord, still had his bleeding heart. Both women were aware that they needed to make contact, fast, before the Fire Nation was put in the hands of these renegades.

The dark maw of an open shipping container caught her attention, and she froze, flinging out an arm to stop Katara as well. Mai chewed on her lip, debating. The blackness of the container could be housing an ambush, but there could also be any number of helpful things inside: water, weapons, an escape war balloon. Her curiosity won out and she whispered her plan to Katara. The two of them crouched down and ran over to the open door. Pressed against the side of the container, Mai took a deep breath then peered inside. 

The good news was, it wasn’t a trap. The bad news was that it was full of unopened identical wooden crates, with no indication that they contained anything they could use. 

“Nothing,” Katara spat, having joined Mai in the open door. She kicked the nearest box viciously, before turning back. Either the sound of her voice or the _thump_ of her kick alerted their pursuers, and Mai heard one of them call _“Over here!”_ She sighed, ready to begin running again. Her eyes drifted down to the crate that Katara had attacked, noting that the bright red text on the side read ‘FLAMMABLE.’ She pried the lid off the box to find that it was full of fireworks.

Mai had a really terrible idea, but she needed help. The next person to attack her was a wiry woman wielding an axe. Mai pulled one of the small razors from her pocket and threw it into the back of her hand, causing her to howl and loosen her grip on the weapon. Quick as a flash, Mai grabbed the handle of the axe and wrenched it out the other woman’s hand, then kicked her hard enough in the knees to make her drop to them. 

“Are you a firebender?” Mai inquired conversationally, pinning the woman’s wrists behind her back. The woman spat at her, and in one movement Mai brought the stolen dagger against her throat.

“I asked you a question,” she said, her voice dangerously soft. The woman’s throat bobbed, but she gave a miniscule shake of her head. Without another word, Mai rapped the handle of the dagger down on the woman’s head, knocking her out. Mai looked around and saw Katara had a young man flat on his back, a knee in the middle of his chest holding him down. He was unarmed.

“Wait!” Mai called. Katara glanced up, confused, though she never fully took her attention off her quarry. The man was definitely no longer in fighting shape; one of his eyes was swelling up, and his face and hands were covered in cuts from Katara’s water whips. “Firebender?”

Katara tilted her head in confusion, but nodded. There were more footsteps approaching; Mai had to work quickly. “Bring him over here, quick.” Mai thought it a testament to how much they had bonded in captivity that Katara obeyed without question, dragging the firebender over to Mai’s open crate of fireworks. She pulled out five of the small rockets and lined them up so they were pointed straight into the sky.

“Light them,” she instructed, nodding for Katara to release one of their captive’s hands. The firebender looked at her in terror, but she didn’t even have to threaten him with the knife before he used one shaky hand to light the fuses. The fireworks screamed into the sky, so loud that Mai fought every instinct to keep from clapping her hands over her ears. The fireworks exploded above them, loud and bright and beautiful. She didn’t allow herself to marvel at them for too long, instead lining up another five on the ground. “Again,” she ordered, and the firebender complied. She didn’t even have to give the command for the next set. 

Katara was still next to her, staring open-mouthed at the sky. “What’s all that for?” 

Despite the burns on her fingertips, gash on her leg, and her increasingly aggravating headache, Mai grinned. “How good do you think the boys are at reading signals?”

Blankness, then a gasp of comprehension. “You’re insane.”

Mai shrugged. “I’ve heard that before.”

The thrill of her plan’s success was short-lived; a new cluster of insurgents skidded into view, unleashing a whirlwind of fire. Katara shot her a feral grin, dropping the firebender to the ground and rushing back into the battle. Mai was about to follow when an arrow pierced her sleeve, pinning her to the fireworks crate. Momentarily shocked at the role reversal, Mai was greeted by the sight of Aiya bearing down on her, bow drawn.

* * *

To Daichi’s credit, he recovered from the shock of the fireworks quickly. Zuko spun his dao blades out in front of him, each one sending out a surge of fire that Daichi dispersed with his hands before returning with his own fireball. Aang paused, blinking in surprise, at the revelation that Daichi was a firebender. He probably should have expected that, but in their past encounters he had never once fought back, preferring to have other people do his fighting for him. On that note, Daichi’s backup leapt into action, fearlessly stepping between their leader and the men that he had been antagonizing. Though a few of them had left to presumably try to contain Katara and Mai, they still heavily outnumbered Aang and Zuko. It wasn’t long before they were on the defensive, working to avoid blasts of fire as well as spears, swords, and daggers. Aang punched down into the ground and drew up a rock wall to shield him and Zuko, then shoved it so it slid forward into the rebels. Between the cries of alarm as they hurried to get out of the way, Zuko grabbed Aang’s arm.

“He’s getting away,” he hissed, his golden eyes focused on the retreating figure of Daichi. Though the exiled councilman hadn’t stooped low enough to run in terror, he was striding away from the battle, content to let his people deal with it.

“I’ll distract these guys, you keep Daichi around.” Though Aang ached to confront Daichi himself, he was a far more distracting opponent than Zuko. Aang allowed the rock wall to sink back into the ground and whirled his glider until a tornado formed around him, one that ripped fire blasts to shreds and tore weapons from people’s hands. The insurgents circled around him, confident when they were fighting together but individually hesitant to attack. Aang flung out his own wave of fire, causing everyone to duck their heads. In the confusion, Zuko slipped away, ducking down a side alley to cut off Daichi. All of Aang’s attention went back to the fight. 

Despite mastering all four elements, Aang was first and foremost an airbender, which meant that he preferred to be fast and evasive, and keep his enemies at a distance. Unfortunately, he only had two eyes, and he was surrounded. As he shifted to deflect yet another flash of fire, someone behind him threw out a chain, thin but heavy, that tangled around his outstretched arm. Aang cried out as the chain was snatched back, wrenching his arm with a painful _pop_ and sending his staff rolling out of his grip, out of sight. His head clashed against the cobblestones as he was yanked off his feet, and he saw stars. He threw out his free arm in a feeble attempt to ward off his other assailants, but the breeze he shot out barely managed to extinguish their flames. As his vision blurred and his movements slowed, he wondered if this was the last thing Katara and Mai had seen before they were abducted. He wondered if any of the people bearing down on him were the ones to take them from him.

The brief, blinding glow of his tattoos stunned his attackers. Revitalized by the raw power of his past lives, Aang grabbed the chain around his arm and flung it forward, sending its owner flying into the others. The man let go of the chain as he bowled over a firebender that had been been midstrike, both of them tumbling into the ground. Aang whipped his new weapon around him, flames licking along the chain as it whistled through the air. The Phoenix Authority were now on the defensive, scrambling out of Aang’s newly-extended influence. A firebender moved to strike, and Aang lashed out with the chain, letting it go as it wrapped around the man’s arms, cinching them tight to his body. Gracefully flowing into his next kata, Aang pulled a boulder out of the road and hurled it into the group of three that were now sprinting towards him. The boulder knocked back two of them, but the third elegantly avoided it and engulfed Aang in fire. Still in the Avatar State, he just barely registered the pain as the flames burned through the fabric of his clothes and danced along his skin. He turned the earth to sand beneath her, swallowing her up to her neck before he allowed it to solidify again. 

A burst of fire in the distance caught Aang’s eye. Zuko had managed to circle around Daichi and was pushing the other firebender back towards the main battle. Daichi was doing a decent job of holding his own, but Zuko’s ferocity was unmatched. Grim-faced and wielding his flaming swords, Zuko pressed forward, forcing Daichi to lose his ground again and again. The rebels were now trapped between the Fire Lord and the Avatar, but Aang was starting to flag. No matter how often he trained, the Avatar State was never meant to be a long-term solution, and he could feel the damning weight of his exhaustion pressing on him. He began to feel pain again, the stinging along his arms and torso where he had been burnt, and the dull throbbing in the shoulder that had been dislocated by the chain. 

As Daichi rejoined what remained of his followers, they encircled him, diverting Zuko’s attacks. Aang couldn’t believe that they were still so loyal, even after he had abandoned them. It was terrifying, to think of someone like that with such faithful and dangerous subjects in charge of the nation. Sensing Aang’s weakness, Daichi and two other firebenders turned on him, simultaneously unleashing a firestorm that Aang could just barely block with his arms. He dropped fully out of the Avatar State and wavered, struggling to stay on his feet. He could hear Zuko shouting his name, but he was locked in his own battle and unable to help. 

Daichi smirked at him, and opened his mouth to say something that Aang was sure would be pompous and self-important. Instead, he grunted in pain as an arrow sank into his shoulder. A thunder footsteps behind him was Aang’s only warning to stumble out of the way as Mai leapt off the back of an ostrich-horse, wielding a Yuyan bow.

* * *

Mai unceremoniously ripped her sleeve to free it from the arrow, keeping her sights on Aiya the whole time. The other woman regarded her coolly, apparently waiting for her to break first. Dread slithered up Mai’s spine as she recalled the archer’s threat when she had been tied up.

_I look forward to killing you._

In a move that she was not particularly proud of, Mai ran.

Taken aback by her unexpected disappearance, Aiya didn’t follow Mai for a few seconds, allowing her to get enough of a head start to melt into the shadows of the shipping crates. Mai’s heart was pounding in her ears, making it even more difficult to track her silent hunter. Unlike the others, Aiya didn’t curse or yell for backup. She simply trailed after Mai, her foreboding shadow the only indication that she was nearby. Mai ducked and weaved, inwardly raging as she realized that Aiya was herding her away from the city, deeper into the shipping yard. She didn’t have time for this.

She rounded a corner and bit back a shriek as she came face-to-face with a set of brilliant blue eyes. Katara pressed a finger to her lips and looked at her pointedly. The nonverbal question was clear: _what do we do?_

Mai had no idea how Katara had found her so quickly, but it gave her an idea. Aiya would only expect to deal with Mai, which meant that Katara could sneak up and surprise her. Mai indicated for Katara to follow her and they crept along the side of the nearest shipping container until they got to a ladder. Mai pointed up the ladder and Katara nodded, disappearing up and over the lip of the container. After a few seconds, Mai deliberately kicked the side of the container and gasped, loudly. 

The slowly creeping shadow of the Yuyan archer sped up as Aiya came around the corner, already shooting. Mai struggled to dodge the arrows without moving too far away from the container, fully aware that if she messed up now it would be the end of her. Aiya stepped closer and closer, the red tattoos on her eyes turned black in the shadows. Mai tried to run but suddenly Aiya was right there, an arrow nocked inches from her face.

Rather than release the arrow, Aiya’s hand on the bow slackened, and Mai took the opportunity to knock it away from her. To her amazement, the bow clattered to the ground, the arrow with it. Aiya choked, and closer examination revealed that her nose and mouth were covered in water, cutting off her oxygen. In those precious moments while Aiya tried to figure out what was going on, Mai punched her in the forehead. The towering woman crumpled to the ground, out cold. 

“That was terrifying,” Mai remarked as Katara clambered down from the top of the shipping container. 

“That was way harder than I thought it would be,” Katara countered, and Mai noticed that the waterbender was trembling slightly and covered in a sheen of sweat. “Turns out when you put water on someone’s mouth, they just want to swallow it.” She turned her attention to the unconscious archer. “Is she…”

Mai placed one hand above Aiya’s mouth, holding it there until she felt the warmth of an exhale. “She’s alive.” Mai started to straighten up, but reached around Aiya’s shoulder first, removing the quiver of arrows from the fallen woman’s back. She picked up the bow as well.

“We need to get to the palace,” Katara reminded her anxiously, straining on her tiptoes as if that would allow her to see past the shipping yard and the mile of city between them and Zuko. With a long-suffering sigh, Mai once again began to run. Katara fell in beside her, and soon they were out of that dreadful yard and into the city proper.

“We’ll never get there in time,” Mai panted, one hand going to the stitch that was already forming in her side. 

“You’re right.” Katara was also breathing heavily, and slowed her pace to a steady jog. Mai slowed down as well, though her mind was screaming at her to keep sprinting. She adjusted the quiver of arrows that was slung across her back, acclimating to the new weight. She scanned the neighborhood for anything that would help them get to the palace faster.

Both her and Katara saw the ostrich-horse at the same time. The stable was attached to an apothecary, who likely used the creature to deliver herbs and medicine around the city.

“Should we?” Katara hesitated, chewing on her lip. “It’s part of their livelihood, they need it.”

It took everything Mai had not to roll her eyes. “You’re the richest person in the city, buy them ten ostrich-horses tomorrow,” she said brusquely, stretching over the door of the stable to unlock it. 

“Of course you’re fine with it, it’s not the first ostrich-horse you’ve stolen.” Mai looked up sharply, but Katara was grinning, clearly teasing her about her wedding shenanigans.

“That was mostly Aang’s idea,” Mai defended herself as she quickly saddled up the ostrich horse.

“I guess he’s rubbing off on you.” The second the words were out of her mouth, Katara flushed a deep enough red that Mai could see it through her dark complexion. “I didn’t mean it like _that_ , I swear.”

“Don’t worry about it,” Mai cut her off before she could begin babbling. “It’s been a weird fucking day.” She stepped back to examine her work; she was by no means an ostrich-horse expert, but she thought they would at least make it to the palace.

Katara exhaled in relief, as though she expected Mai to pick a fight with her over her poor choice of words. “No kidding.” She effortlessly pulled herself onto the ostrich-horse, taking the reins. “I can lead, you can cover us with the bow.” Mai nodded and joined Katara on the beast, squeezing her knees to keep herself upright. 

“Ready!” The word wasn’t even all the way out of her mouth when Katara urged the ostrich-horse forward, racing full speed down the middle of the street. Mai’s free hand flailed in front of her until she grabbed the back of Katara’s tunic, steadying herself on the galloping animal. She somehow managed to keep a hold of the Yuyan bow in her other hand, pressing it to her chest to keep it from getting ripped away by the wind.

Mai heard the battle before she saw it; the roar of firebending clashing with the metallic clang of swords and spears. Katara clearly heard it as well, digging her heels into the ostrich-horse’s flanks and urging it faster. The combatants came into view, both Zuko and Aang holding off more people than should be possible. However grim the situation was, Mai’s heart soared at the sight. They had gotten the message she had sent with the fireworks, and she was grateful that there was still a fight to be had.

Her knuckles turned white around the stolen bow as, in slow motion, Aang was engulfed in flames. The arms he crossed defensively in front of his face disperse the brunt of the attack, but the Avatar looked completely drained. His clothes were scorched and he swayed back and forth, but he shifted into a fighting stance, ready to go again. Mai was overcome with a fierce protectiveness and, in a flash, she pulled an arrow from the quiver on her back and loosed it towards Daichi. Her aim was good, considering she was on the back of a moving ostrich-horse, and the arrow struck his shoulder, stunning him. 

“Go help Zuko,” she instructed Katara, then swung her leg around the back of the ostrich-horse and jumped off before the waterbender could argue. She stumbled as she hit the ground, but a hand with a blue arrow steadied her. 

“You’re okay,” Aang murmured, his eyes bright with relief. His grip tightened, as though confirming that she was, in fact, standing in front of him. “You’re alive.”

There was so much she wanted to say, but now was not the time. She put one hand over Aang’s and squeezed, reassuring both of them that they were okay, before selecting another arrow and shooting one of the firebenders that had been momentarily stunned by her unanticipated arrival. His cry of pain as the arrow pierced his thigh brought everyone back to the present. Aang’s attention snapped back to Daichi and the remaining firebender. Daichi’s composure had completely disintegrated. His teeth were now exposed in a furious snarl, his hair plastered to his forehead with sweat. They moved in, too close for Mai to use the bow, and released another blast of fire. Mai ducked under it and kicked out, catching Daichi’s accomplice off guard and bringing him to his knees. One more kick to the side of his head rendered him unconscious. 

The split second she took her attention off Daichi, he struck. Not towards Aang, but to her, ripping the quiver off her back. The next thing she knew, her back was pressed against his chest, his elbow locked around her windpipe. His other hand came up to the side of her face, and she closed her eyes against the sudden burst of light. She turned her head away from the flames that singed the hairs on her cheek, just barely far enough away to keep from burning her. Aang stilled, his nostrils flared and his hands clenching uselessly at his side. 

“That’s enough, Avatar,” Daichi growled, his eyes darting back and forth, searching for backup. It was not forthcoming; the rest of Daichi’s people were held up fighting Zuko and Katara, who moved together effortlessly as a single terrifying force. “This isn’t over yet. My mistake was trying to do this respectfully, and it is not one I will repeat.” While he talked, Mai’s hand inched into her pocket, then stopped. “I will be crowned Fire Lord over your charred remains, you— _fuck!_ ” He swore as Mai jammed the last razor from her pocket into his stomach behind her, vindictively twisting it into his flesh. The fire in his hand went out as he instinctively pushed her away from him, and she took her cue to run. Aang jerked his hands up, there was a rumble of earth, and Daichi was encased neck-to-toe in a stone prison.

* * *

“Aang, I’m fine,” Mai complained for the millionth time as the palace healers finally left her alone. 

“Yeah, yeah, what do you know?” Aang was standing next to her examination table in the infirmary, having long ago escaped from his own table. One of his hands would periodically skirt along her arms and legs, despite the healers’ assurances that Mai hadn’t sustained any serious damage. The other hand was firmly holding onto hers. If she were truly annoyed, she could have pulled her hand out of his grasp.

She did not.

“Katara, please tell him I’m fine.”

“Sorry, I have my own to deal with.” Katara had insisted on healing Zuko first, and since then he had had his arms wrapped around her waist, chin perched on her shoulder, following along behind her like a turtle-duckling. “Spirits, you guys are clingy.” Aang couldn’t help but notice that Katara was also not trying very hard to escape.

It was surreal, how quickly and anticlimactically everything had ended. Once Daichi was out of commission, the rest of the Phoenix Authority had wavered long enough to be brought down. Then it was just a matter of the palace guards rounding up all the rebels, both from the street and the shipping yard. Aang and his friends had little else to do but limp back to the palace, Katara directing them straight to the infirmary. The only serious injury was on Zuko, who had been swiped across the stomach with a sword at some point during the altercation. Aang had no memory of that happening, and even Zuko admitted he had no idea he had been hurt that badly.

In spite of Mai’s protestations, Aang couldn’t bring himself to let go of her, either from the irrational fear that she would vanish if he did, or the sheer relief that she was back. The grip on his hand tightened as she insistently tugged him forward until he was standing in front of her. She pulled him even closer, until they were nose to nose.

“I missed you,” he confessed, quiet enough that only she would hear. 

“I missed you too.” She also spoke barely above a whisper. Unable to bear the separation any longer, Aang leaned in to kiss her. He hummed in disgruntled surprise when she bent back before his lips could touch hers.

“So,” Mai began, louder now. “Katara said something interesting while we were tied up.”

“Oh?” Aang shot Katara a shrewd glance. Katara, who was pretending that she wasn’t eavesdropping, quickly looked away. “What did she say?”

“She said that you were in love with me.”

“Did she now?” Aang leveled a glare at Katara, who had the decency to at least appear guilty before she headed out of the infirmary, Zuko still clamped around her. 

“She did,” Mai confirmed. “Which is interesting, because you said that you liked me, which is one thing, but love is something entirely different.”

“Uh huh.” It was maddening that he couldn’t read anything in her expression or her voice. “Very different.”

“And now the question is, is it true?”

“Depends.”

“On what?”

“On how you feel.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah. If you don’t feel the same way, then it’s just Katara trying to besmirch my cool guy reputation.”

Mai considered that. “No, you have to say it first.”

Aang groaned. “You won’t tell me anything? Not even a little hint?” Mai shook her head. “Fine, but just remember that I had a very emotional, stressful day—”

“I was drugged and kidnapped today, but go on.”

“—and my heart is very sensitive right now.” 

“I’ll keep that in mind.”

He had thought it would be more difficult to say to her for the first time. He had struggled so much saying it to himself, to Suki, to Katara. But the words fell out easily, as though he had already told her a thousand times. “I love you.”

She waited just a fraction too long, just enough for panic to begin to curl in his stomach, before she broke out in a radiant smile. “I love you too.”

Mai set off her second fireworks show of the evening, this time in his chest. Elated, he cupped her face between his hands to kiss her, and this time she let him. He could feel her smiling through the kiss but he didn’t care, he knew he was smiling too.

* * *

Aang was watching her mess with the Yuyan bow, aiming at the target that they had placed in a tree in the palace garden. Mai had decided to keep Aiya’s weapon after the archer had been arrested, both out of spite and a genuine interest in learning a new skill. 

“I’m leaving tomorrow.” He spoke just as she loosed her arrow, causing her to jerk and send it up into the branches of the tree. 

“Oh,” was all she could say. She wasn’t entirely shocked by Aang’s proclamation, since he had been moody and fidgety all afternoon. It had to happen sooner or later; all the members of the Phoenix Authority had been taken into custody almost a week ago, and peace had once again descended on Caldera City. It didn’t need the Avatar anymore.

Aang walked over to her, taking the bow from her hands and gently pulling her down until they were both sitting on the grass. His solemn expression only made her more anxious, her heart rate suddenly tripling. They had skillfully managed to avoid talking about their future for the past week, and Mai had been happy keeping it that way. 

For once, Aang didn’t beat around the bush. “Come with me,” he said earnestly, folding her hands between his. “Maybe it’s selfish, but I don’t want to leave you here waiting for me, and I’m tired of traveling alone.”

She bit her lip. “I want to go…”

“Great!” he beamed. 

“ _But,_ ” she continued, shooting him a reproachful glare. “I’m...nervous.”

Aang frowned. “About what? What do you think will happen?”

“You’ll get bored of me. You’ll find someone better. You’ll dump me in the middle of nowhere with a broken heart.” Articulating her fears out loud for the first time was terrifying, and she was unable to meet his eyes.

He drew back. “I would never do that!” he protested, sounding offended. His demeanor softened and he leaned in, so their faces were inches apart. “I promise, for as long as you’ll have me, I’ll be with you.”

Mai gave a sad smile and reached out, brushing her thumb across his cheek in the tender way he often did to her. “You can’t promise that.”

“Of course I can,” he argued, stubborn. “Why won’t you believe me?”

“I’ve known you a long time,” she replied delicately. She didn’t want to hurt his feelings, but she knew she had to be honest.

“I’m...that....that’s not fair, Mai,” he scowled, and Agni help her the petulant expression on his face was unfairly adorable. “I’m not some flighty, indecisive child. I’m not going to suddenly change my mind.” He paused, examining her face, perhaps trying to make her believe him with the intensity of his gaze. “You don’t really think I’d do that to you, do you?” It was so quiet she could barely hear it, and the childlike hurt in his tone made her breath catch.

“I guess not,” she sighed, and laid down on her back in the grass. The lawn had been watered recently and the moisture from the soil seeped into the back of her clothing. Aang laid down next to her, putting his hand next to hers, fingertips brushing. She took his hand, intertwining their fingers together.

“Please, tell me,” he whispered, and she didn’t think she had ever heard him sound so earnest.

“I’m scared.” It was much easier to have this conversation with neither of them looking at each other, just staring straight up into the cloudless blue sky. “That I like you too much, and I’ll drop everything to travel with you, and then you’ll break my heart.”

Aang was silent for a moment. “Would it help if I told you I worry about the same thing?” 

Mai finally turned her head so she could look at him, but he was still staring straight up. His face was so open and expressive, so unlike hers, that she could tell that he was being sincere. “Really?”

“Of course,” he flopped his head down and the bright, instinctive smile that lit up his face when he saw she was already looking at him made her heart stutter. “I could take you away and you could decide that you don’t want to be with me. Or you’ll meet someone you like more, and I have to pretend that I’m okay with it because I’m the Avatar. Or you’ll snap and kill me in my sleep.” His grin widened when Mai chuckled at that, and he squeezed her hand encouragingly. “But I’d rather take a risk than think about everything that could possibly go wrong. Life’s too short to always play it safe.” Mai wondered how much of that was purely Aang, and how much of that was the Avatar and the last airbender. 

“I think everyone knows that you like to take risks,” Mai said, deflecting. He was right, of course. There were no guarantees for the future; if she ever wanted to get out of her stasis, she was going to have to take some kind of risk.

“And I know you do too. That’s why I love you.” She had heard the phrase dozens of times over the past week, and it never failed to send a shiver up her spine. “How about this,” he rolled onto his side, propping his head up on his elbow. “I can say, with absolute certainty, that I will love you today, and tomorrow, and the next day, and even the day after that. Do you feel the same?” 

Mai rotated her entire body so she was also on her side facing him, still holding onto his free hand with hers. “I suppose so,” she replied slowly, unsure with what he was getting at.

Aang broke into a wide grin. “So that gives us four days of knowing we’ll be together. Is four days enough time?”

She laughed, because it was ridiculous, and _he_ was ridiculous, and she knew that he was worth the risk, because he was the savior of the world and also her favorite person in it. “Are you proposing that we plan the rest of our lives only four days at a time?”

He pursed his lips, thoughtful. “Why not? Honestly, that’s further ahead than I usually plan anything.”

“I guess I can make that work.” In one swift move, she rolled herself onto her back and jerked his hand towards her, so that he fell on top of her with a shout. Propping himself up on his elbows so that his arms bracketed her head, Aang brushed her nose against her’s. 

“So is that a yes?” he breathed.

Mai could feel the goofy smile spreading across her face, and for once she had no inclination to try to hide it. “Yes,” she answered, and then he was kissing her, warm and solid and safe. She draped her arms around the back of his neck, pulling him into her, questioning when exactly the familiar weight of his body on hers became so comforting. She giddily thought that four days of this, with him, would be more than enough for her, and anything beyond that was extra. 

They were rudely interrupted by a shock of cold water. Mai was mostly shielded by Aang, but the airbender was completely drenched. They both gawked up at Katara, who was standing over them and dusting her hands together, satisfied with her work. 

“Enough making out, you’ll have plenty of time for that later. Mai, you promised you’d do some target practice with me today,” she instructed, ignoring how they were gawking at her. She turned on one heel and marched away, clearly expecting Mai and Aang to follow her. They exchanged a baffled glance before they both sat up, Aang thoughtfully bending the water out of her clothes and then doing the same to himself.

“Unbelievable,” he muttered, flinging the water in the grass next to them and shaking his head. “After all the times I’ve walked in on them groping each other.” 

“You know,” Mai said slowly. “I bet the two of us could take her.” 

“You think?” Aang replied doubtfully.

“Yeah. We have the element of surprise.”

Aang snickered and climbed to his feet, staring after Katara’s retreating form. “Well, I’ve never turned down a suicide mission before, no reason to start now.”

Mai was not aware that the Fire Lady knew so many swear words, all of which she impressively unleashed at once when Mai and Aang tackled her to the ground.

* * *

The day Mai left the Fire Nation was a perfect day: sunny, clear, with just a hint of the coming autumn chill in the air. Aang was even more energized than usual, literally bouncing back and forth between their room, the grass lawn, and Appa’s saddle to pack and secure all of their things. Mai was more subdued, fully taking in the reality of her major life change. She had been surprised by how little she wanted to bring with her; the decadent clothing, jewelry, skincare, and makeup that made up most of her possessions seemed frivolous, weighty things now. She had her knives, her new Yuyan bow, her most comfortable clothing with plenty of pockets. She had the earrings that Aang had made for her, retrieved from Daichi before he was locked up in prison. Aang had laughed and said she didn’t need to wear them _all_ the time, and she had responded that he better make her something else to wear, then. 

She had already resigned from the museum and said goodbye to everyone there. Her family was next, peppering her with questions about when she was going to actually marry Aang even as they hugged her goodbye. Her farewell with Tom-Tom was the most difficult, and in fact she almost changed her mind right then and there. He had clutched her around her neck, sniffling in her ear, not soothed by her reassurances that she would be back in a year or so. It only slightly ruined the emotion of the moment when he asked her to make sure to come back with a present for him.

The last stop on the way out had been to see Azula in her treatment facility. Aang had come with her for that, though he waited outside the door until he was sure he would be welcome. It was hard to get a read on the princess; when Mai told her she was leaving, Azula had shrugged her shoulders and said she wouldn’t notice much of a difference, since Mai hadn’t been to see her often anyway. Mai had rolled her eyes, but didn’t miss Azula’s sad smile, or the way she softly said, “Good luck.”

Mai had no idea how the meeting between Aang and Azula went. She had invited the airbender into the room, and Azula had looked him over and said, “I’m sorry I killed you.” Aang had replied in an equally unaffected voice, “That’s okay, better luck next time.” They both laughed, and Aang and Mai left.

And then, she was done. The smallness of her life that made it so easy to leave was humbling. It had been safe, but she had never wanted to spend the rest of her life being safe. She observed Aang dangling off the bison’s side, his feet hooked into the saddle and his hands scrabbling for a pack of food from one of the palace servants. It was just barely out of reach, and he fearlessly let go with one of his legs to drop another few inches, taking the pack and using his airbending to swing himself back up into the saddle. He caught her watching him and smiled, bringing his fingertips to his lips to dramatically blow her a kiss. Aang was definitely not safe, she thought, but he wasn’t exactly unsafe either.

The Fire Lord and Lady came down to see them off, walking with their arms loosely draped around each other’s waist. Zuko went straight to Mai and embraced her, wrapping her entire body in a hug so tight that she couldn’t breathe. “If I cry, will it freak you out?” he mumbled into her hair.

“Yes, suck it up,” she replied, smiling into his shoulder, her own eyes suspiciously wet. 

“What about if I tell Aang that he better take care of you, or else?”

“It sounds like you already know the answer to that one too.” Mai finally pulled back, oddly touched at how hard Zuko was taking her departure. “Stop being so dramatic, I’ll be back within a year.” 

“Right, a year.” He gave her a soft smile, and a surge of affection for him swept over her. He had been her first everything: first boyfriend, first love, first heartbreak. She had not wanted to forgive him, at first, the final time they had broken up. She was glad that she had.

Next to them, Katara and Aang finished their goodbye, and Aang nudged Mai out of the way so he could tackle Zuko in a dramatic bear hug. That left Mai facing Katara. Mai hesitated, unsure of the type of farewell one gave to their ex-boyfriend’s current wife after they had recently faced a harrowing life-or-death conflict together. Katara solved the dilemma by giving her a hug, so warm and sweet that Mai at last understood why so many people claimed that Katara was a mother figure. 

They stepped back, and a number of empty platitudes came to Mai’s mind; _I’ll miss you,_ and _take care,_ and _thank you_. Before Mai could say anything, Katara winked at her and cheerily said, “Have fun!” 

“We will!” Aang stepped in, sweeping Mai up into his arms and jumping up to Appa’s saddle before she could protest. 

As the bison began to ascend into the sky, Mai leaned out over the side of the saddle to wave to Zuko and Katara, who were still looking up. Soon enough, the courtyard, then the palace, then the city disappeared from view.

Mai went to sit on Appa’s head next to Aang, who obligingly scooted over to make room for her. He lifted one arm so she could tuck herself against his side, the comforting rhythm of his heartbeat resounding against her chest.

“So, where are we going?” he inquired.

Mai thought about where they could get to in four days. “You said something about pirates the other night.”

“Ooh, good idea! I know just the place!” Aang tugged on one of the reins until they were headed east. The world spread out before them.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> WE MADE IT YALL!!!! Thank you again for all the amazing comments and support, writing this has truly been a bright point in an objectively terrible year. Please feel free to come say hi on tumblr, I love getting to talk to other Mai/Aang shippers!

**Author's Note:**

> Feel free to chat with me on Tumblr [@praetorqueenreyna](https://praetorqueenreyna.tumblr.com/)!


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